Trinity Blood: Revelations, Book I
by ObsidianEmpress
Summary: It has been two years since the crowning of the Albian Queen and the last Battle with the Rosenkreuz. On a dark night Esther meets a mysterious seer, who prophesies the Contra Mundi's recent plot against her. Who will be the one to protect her in this solemn hour? Whose blood will stain the pages of history? Abel Esther and slight Cain Esther. Ch XIII UPDATE! With FLUFF!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: _Trinity Blood _is owned by Sunao Yoshida, (_In pace requiescat_) with character designs by THORES Shibamoto, an Anime owned by Tomohiro Hirata, GONZO productions and Funimaton, and a Manga owned by Kiyo Kyujyo and Tokyopop.

Warnings: _Trinity Blood _takes place in an alternate apocalyptic universe, where the Catholic Church/ the Vatican is again, a major military power (like in the Renaissance years) as well as a spiritual one. There are many major controversial changes within the Church, like women given the titles of Bishops and Cardinals and also romantic relationships and quite possibly marriage between members of the clergy. So if any one does not like this notion, don't say I didn't warn you.

**Prologue**

_Death… is only the Beginning_

_I remember now... long before I became the Sybil. She was my teacher, so when she died fighting, I would take her place._

_I remember her words now... she speaks as if it were only yesterday._

_And I, the curious child, had many questions..._

_She was always kind and smiled every time I had one.  
_

_We are born... and we live..._

_Why are we born... and why do we live?_

_For Him... He who created all this. The Humans... and us._

_Why?_

_Because He loved us so much... Both our kind, and the Humans.  
_

_I remembered when she told me the purpose of our kind._

_Many Humans cannot protect themselves from the darkness that haunts this world._

_Darkness?_

_Where they come from, we protect the Humans from them._

_Who is they?_

_The fallen ones, the demons. They live merely to devour the souls and the energy of the Humans we wish protect. That is why we descended to this world to protect them._

_You said we came, descended, but you said we were born... what does that mean?_

_We were born into human flesh... but our spirits are sent from the Father. The Father sent us... so we could defend the humans from the demons._

_Then that one day I asked her about Death._

_What happens to us when we die?_

_We return to the Father, our human flesh abandoned so it may return to the earth. _

_Isn't that sad when Death finds us?_

_It isn't a sad thing at all, for once our spirits return to the Father, we are free from all pains and sorrows. Death is nothing more than a gateway into seeing our Father, Our Creator once more._

_But why do we mourn all those who fall?_

_It is a sad time when one loses a loved one, that is why during funerals we examine our grief, but our grief than turns happiness for our loved ones are with our loving Creator._

_Do we live for Him or do we merely live... for death?_

_I lived for death... I sought it... but I never found it. _

_I was nothing more than a fool who desperately wished for Death's kind embrace, I wanted to be with my loved one again. The hole in my heart was becoming unbearable when that _monster_ took him from me._

_I laid in his tomb wishing for Death... while I neglected my duties to protect the Humans of this world from the Shadows that haunt it. And worse yet... _

_I abandoned my children... when they needed me the most..._

_And I am the reason the Armageddon began..._

_I doomed the world worse than any demon could ever have done._

* * *

Death shrouds these mountains, this place of resting like the night when it descends upon the day. In the tombs within these dark mountains, many have fallen into ruin, but in this one dark place, this place of rest, is a stone slab. Someone lies upon it. A woman. Yet decay and rot have not marked her body. No, this woman is not dead. She is sleeping, in wait, for her time of awakening. When the Father shall call use of her once more. She dreams, she drifts, her mind wanders in endless circles, voyaging between the past and the future.

Suddenly, she rises, as if she awaking from a nightmare. She clasps her hands over her heart, as if a dagger has pierced her. A cry escapes from her lips, a cry filled with sorrow and loss. Her eyes become filled with tears as her voice then cracks with grief as she utters these words.

"My son…oh my son…my child…why…?"

Suddenly she cries out to the heavens, demanding an answer.

"Why? My son…! How could thee do this to thy…"

Her voice cracks once more, the rest of her words came out distorted. Suddenly, she pauses and looks upon her hands, staring blindly.

"What have I… what have I done?"

She covers her face with her hands, breaking out into body wracking sobs. 

* * *

A/N: There it is, my first Fanfiction. I hope all of you enjoyed it. I know this is a little short. Reviews are greatly appreciated and I hoped that many of you guys out there liked this story. I appreciate constructive criticisms, but NOT FLAMES. Please play nice!

Updated A/N: New updated prologue. My editor loved the prologue I was saving for book two so much she insisted I use it here. Opinions? Love it or hate it, please read and review gently, it's my first time... : )

Mysteriously Yours, ObsidianEmpress


	2. I: Remeber Remeber the Fifth of November

**A/N: Here it is folks, my first FF chapter of TBR!**

**Trinity Blood: Revelations  
Book I: The Kingdom of the North**

Chapter I: Remember, Remember the Fifth of November  
_Remember, remember  
__The Fifth of November  
__The gunpowder treason and plot  
__I know of no reason  
__Why the gunpowder treason  
__Should ever be forgot  
_- English verse for Guy Fawkes' Night

**The Kingdom of Albion**

**Two years later **

I knew I was being stupid, but I didn't care. I wanted to see Her Majesty the Queen of Albion, in person, and I was skipping school, just to see her.

It was an early morning and the Queen was holding a session of Parliament, where the House of Lords and the House of Commons would be meeting. I didn't care about seeing them, the old geezers, but Her Majesty herself. It was the dream of every subject of Albion to get a glimpse of the Queen and now I'm going to fulfill it.

Now mind I have seen video clips and pictures of Her Majesty. Seeing her is person is quite different than looking at a picture or a 2-D video clip. Many say that when you see Albian royalty… you look upon the divine. From all the news feeds I've seen of her, she had bright scarlet hair, like that of her grandmother in her earlier years, and her skin was like cream, but not pale as my kind. Yet what stood out the most about her was her eyes, a rich deep blue of which a blue diamond itself would be envious. She was beautiful… and hearing that from a Methuselah is saying something.

Queen Esther, the Star of Hope, the Lady Saint of István, the last of the Royal House of Blanchett… we all loved her, most especially my people, the Methuselah. She was the one who freed us from slavery in the underground Ghetto. She was the one who actually listened to us when we cried for freedom. Unlike that bitch- pardon my language- Bloody Mary, who never listened to us and repressed even more, she was true in her promises of peace and negotiations. Now we, the Methuselah, can walk the clouded streets of Londinium without fear or repression. (When the sun is out we have to stay in for the UV rays are dangerous to our flesh, and the only time we are allowed out in daylight is when the sun is blocked by clouds, but we Methuselah still have to wear layers of clothing, just in case.)

Though I will never understand why _some_ Terrans are persistent in calling us "vampires"... Bloody Hell! As if we would become like beasts and bite people's necks! Besides, like any other proper Methuselah, I drink "Aqua Vitae," - a.k.a. blood tablets. Never will my fangs pierce a Terran's throat; I want to prove to them bloody zealots that we, the Methuselah, can be just as "human" as they claim to be.

Many thought that when we were freed, "Londinium would be drenched with blood," or "No one will survive the following bloodbath." The truth is the streets of Londinium ARE NOT awash in blood and the people DO NOT flee in terror from us "ravenous blood-drinkers," contrary to the constant whingeing of some _certain_ Papal officials and some _certain_ Albian Lords.

Whatever. I'll think about them later. Right now, I got to focus, 'cause I've hit my destination: Parliament.

This building hasn't lost its grandeur, even during the Armageddon. Even Big Ben made it out unscathed. Looking up at the clock tower, I saw it was a quarter to ten. The Queen hasn't even arrived and yet the crowds of reporters, photographers, paparazzi, and even the citizens of Albion were there. All of them hoping to fulfill the very wish in their heart as I was, yet… with the crowd this big, how was I going to even get a glimpse of her? I was so close, yet so far.

"Bloody media," I muttered under my breath. "Don't these blokes have a life of their own?" Suddenly, a chilling thought entered my mind. With the cameras everywhere, what if Mum saw me on the telly… oh, the hell I'd be getting from my parents when I got home…

Dammit! Not only do I have the crowd to deal with… now I have to be certain I don't get spotted. Two utterly impossible tasks for a Terran… but maybe not for a Methuselah…

I lowered my cabby hat to where it was resting just over my eyes and I gathered my black leather jacket more tightly around my shoulders. Then I wrapped the scarf that was hanging around my neck over my mouth and pulled my hair into a ponytail and tucked it under my hat. Good. Now I'm decent.

Now the next challenge: find an area where I can get a good glimpse.

_See the Queen_._ Don't get caught_. I repeated over and over in my head.

All that existed now was the crowd before me and the falling snow. Albion in November was covered in it. Peeking out from under my hat, I tried to scan through the flurries for a way through the crowd. There it was. A lamp post. It was adjacent to the entrance of the building. Tempting, but no. They'd be sure to take my picture if I got up there. Worse yet, they'd probably shoot me as an assassin. Hmmm…

The motorcade arrived. Bobbies and guardsmen everywhere. I even saw that red head of Bloody Mary leading them. Suddenly, blokes, media, paparazzi and all surged forward against the barricades, nearly running me over in the process. I was going to miss it, dammit! I was going to miss her!

Then it happened. Rolling flames like the fires of Hell itself burst from the doors of the Parliament. The street rocked and people screamed as they were pelted with debris. The crowd vanished in front of me, taken down by the blast. Then I got my wish and I only wished to God that I hadn't.

The Queen was dead… Her charred form lying the street, smoldering still.

"The Queen is dead!" I screamed.

Next chapter: Resurgam  
Avert not, thine eyes 

* * *

A/N: I know this is a little short, and as for the OC in this chapter, it can be anyone, you, your BFF, or even one of your relations.

Although many of you guys are tears now and asking questions like: "Is Esther really dead?" "How are Abel and Ion going to take this?" "Who's the Assassin?" "Does Cain Have something to do with this?". Well… (sniffles) I wish I can answer your questions but I can't… (sniffles) please bear with me for a while. Okay?

(1) Aqua Vitae, "Water of Life"- Blood Tablets. Just drop the red pill into a glass of water and voíla, blood. You can have them for the easy payment of £11.99. (Oops. Sorry… been watching too many infomercials.) Trinity Blood Manga Volume VII reference.

Reviews are greatly appreciated and I hoped that many of you guys out there liked this story. I appreciate constructive criticisms, but NOT FLAMES. Please play nice!

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	3. II: Resurgam

A/N: This is an ode to Sith Lady **Darth Stitch**'s story "Requiem: Death Shall Have No Dominion." Sorry about the scare in the first chapter, and no I'm not a super sadist (unlike a certain Puppet Master.) Now mind y'all I love Esther just as much as y'all do, but I can't reveal anything yet. So forgive me. And I am SO SO SO SORRY about not updating sooner. I feel like I now have a one too many things on my plate so forgive me! Here it is Chapter II.

**Chapter II: Resurgam  
**_Though they go mad they shall be sane  
__Though they sink through they shall rise again  
__Though lovers be lost love shall not  
__And Death shall have no dominion  
_- Dylan Thomas

**Six Days Earlier**

The graveyard at night was still and dark. Scarce light emanated from the far off stars, yet the most abundant light came from the Night's Eye, and it's red twisted twin, shining in the distance, leaving everything around her a silvery hue with a slight tinge of red. All around her were blocks of stone in the shape of towering obelisks, carved platforms, and risen caskets. What stood out the most were the carved images of crosses and angels. In the crescent moon's slim light, the angels appeared to be made of soft silver. The scent of fresh and decaying flowers filled her nose as she walked down the familiar stone path.

She knew this place well.

If one had looked beneath the cloak of the woman garbed in a rich black dress of velvet, they would have seen the familiar face of the Queen of Albion. If one would have looked at her then… she looked as if she were holding back years of unshed tears, and no one, save a certain few others, had ever seen her cry.

Esther took a shuddering deep breath, trying to calm the emotions swimming in her head. She then held the white poppy that she'd been carrying up to her nose and breathed in the soft scent. It wasn't as rich as a rose, but she preferred this sweeter, simpler smell.

She couldn't bear the sight or smell of roses. His coffin had been surrounded by roses and while she mourned day and night for him, the roses were all she could see and smell. She had made certain that his grave would still bear flowers, even though they weren't the rich red roses of his funeral. He had told her once, even though he was goofing around, that should angels call him to heaven… the flowers he wanted to cover his grave were poppies.

Esther knew, after learning his terrible secret, the mark of his sins, that they could never be together. He was immortal… and she was doomed to die. He would still be young as she grew old and gray… oh, the irony of that… he was a being that would never die and he was… dead.

And it was all her fault.

Her eyes finally gazed upon the grave she had meant to visit. Her fingers then tightened around the fresh flower, noting the texture of the soft silk of the black ribbon that was entwined around the stem. He had always worn a hair ribbon in her presence, and she had often dreamed that one day he would take it down for her so she could finally see those beautiful silver locks unbound. She also dreamed that she would look upon his crystal blue eyes without them being obstructed by those unnecessary glasses he had persisted in wearing. She had seen him a few times without those characterisitc items and recalled when he had, her heart quivered at the sight and butterflies flittered in her stomach. Yet the first time she had seen him without those two items… was when she had first seen the mark of his sins. She was so filled with fear that the creature before her couldn't be the sweet gentle priest that she knew. But then she saw, in the crimson depths of his eyes… she _saw_ him.

_God forgive me…FORGIVE ME!_

And she… _heard_ him as he cried out in agony.

_I am sorry Miss Esther_…_ so sorry that you had to see _that._ What you saw, that was the mark_… _the mark of my sins_…

He had promised her… when he first met her… that he would always be on her side. Yet how could he be on her side when she wasn't there for him when he needed her the most?

Yet what hurt even worse than that… when she saw him the last time in… _that_ form… She saw his silver hair unbound, and his crystal blue eyes staring back at her… losing life… as he whispered his final word…

_E-Esther_…

When Virgil Walsh had told her that she was the Queen of this very nation in the midst of her grief… she refused to believe him. She had just killed off the man her heart had desired, since the moment she saw him… how could she possibly run a country?

_You have to ask? Really? Well, it is because I am your friend, and I will always be on your side._

It was almost as if he heard her… like he was reaching out to her… giving her strength… giving her hope… as he had done after they first met.

Then she saw him rise, seemingly miraculous from that casket… Yet he wasn't the same. His body was utterly black, covered in alien blue markings, his ebony black feathered wings were replaced with bladed like bat wings and his lurid eyes glimmered back at the foe she aided in his death.

She saw them as they fought… their battle resembling the war between Michael and Lucifer so many millennia ago. Yet Esther knew full well which of them truly deserved his place in heaven and which one was pleased to rule in hell.(1)

_You will fight for eternity…won't you? _

Suddenly, all her hopes were shattered as she saw him fall to Earth… like a damned angel falling into the abyss. They never found his body… yet they kept the marker in remembrance of him. The one who fought against the Contra Mundi all his life, they said, deserved eternal peace in heaven.

She knew the name of the…demon who killed him without a thought. Who had outright murdered him without any qualms. Yet she preferred to not say… or even think of his name… it was too painful to bring up. Virgil had told her that he was the Contra Mundi, the Angel of Death, the leader of the enemy the AX so commonly fought against, and of the world. Yet what was strange about the Death Angel was that he bore her beloved's face, although _his_ eyes resembled more of an icy abyss than that of a pure crystal. The white fiend smiled back at her every time she closed her eyes.

She looked upon the grave. It was a simple grave marker, a small platform of stone. Nothing special, nothing glamorous. Yet… it was the stone that always burdened her heart.

The poppy from a few weeks ago was miraculously still there, yet decay and frost had already marked it and the ribbon that was around it was damp from the dew and had flecks of ice from the frost.

She knelt down and removed the deceased flower, then placed the one she held upon the cold, gray stone. She folded her hands and began to pray. Even though it was night, especially on Allhallows' Eve, where the spirits of the dead and Things worse than vampires walked the Earth, she had faith that God would hear her and protect her. She hoped that wherever he was… he would forgive her.

"Our Father in Heaven," she began. Her breath hung like smoke in the frost that surrounded her. She then took out the silver Rosary that hung around her neck all her life, from when she was found on the doorstep of the St. Matthias's Church where she grew up, to all her missions in the AX. Even though she was a Queen now, she still kept it.

"May your holy name be honored. May your kingdom come; may your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today the food we need. Forgive us of the wrongs that we have done, as we forgive the wrongs that others have done to us. Do not bring us to hard testing, but keep us safe from the Evil One.(2)"

She then began her request: "Oh Lord…wherever he is… please… look after him… even though I can't be with him…" Her voice shook. "Let your Angel's wings guide him and protect him… please… my Heavenly Father… I cannot… It was all my fault… I killed him…" As her prayer reached it's climax her voice began to break. "Forgive me, Father… it was my worst sin. Amen."

"Father Nightroad…" She looked down upon the stone as if looking at the man whom burdened her heart, "Will _you_ ever forgive me?" She asked hoping to receive an answer, her fingers then tightened around the crucifix. Her voice finally cracked and then she finally allowed herself to cry her unshed silent tears.

These pristine and crystalline tears fell upon the white poppy and onto the stone that covered the unoccupied grave. It was only marked with one name. The name of the man she would never forget, the name of the man she would forever mourn, the name of the man she killed.

Abel Nightroad.

_There is no end to be found in this world_

Esther gasped. Was she hearing things?

_Sleep my beloved_

She _knew_ this song… this requiem… it was the same one she heard in the cathedral when she mourned him.

_Your life goes on_

She turned her head around in attempt to look for the mysterious singer. Angels, stone and snow surrounded her, yet even though Esther could not see the singer among them, she could definitely _hear_ the woman.

_You were born and you lived_

Suddenly she remembered that day, as if it was only yesterday. Her cheeks were stained with continuous tears and her eyes were red, a result of her tears. Her face pressed against the ebony wood of his coffin and her hands balled into small fists. The smell of incensed candles that lit the cathedral filled her nose.

_You will sing the song of hope, won't you?_

Then she heard the sorrowful strains of music of some unknown soprano, her voice raised in lamentation and sorrow. The voice wasn't familiar to her, but it was beautiful nonetheless. She closed her eyes as she heard the final ending note to the requiem.

_For eternity_

"'Woman, why weepest thou? Why seek ye the living among the dead?(3)'" The voice, in the barest whisper, asked her.

Next chapter: Come What Come May  
Avert not, thine eyes

* * *

() Quoted from _Jane Eyre_, by Charlotte Brontë; "Resurgam" - "I will rise again."

(1) Referenced from John Milton's, _Paradise Lost_, Line 263. The full original quote from line 258 and onward is: "[...] Here at least/ we shall be free; the Almighty hath not built/ Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:/ Here we may reign secure, and in my choice/ to reign is worth ambition though in Hell:/ Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven." This is also an ode to Sith Lady **Darth Stitch **for her Milk Tea series.

(2) Quoted from the Trinity Blood version of the prayer _Our Father_, the original quote was from Luke 11:2-4.

(3) Quoted from John 20:13 and Luke 24:5

A/N: I originally wanted to use the song "Wishing you were somehow here again" from the Phantom of the Opera OST, but you are free to listen to it on YouTube as background music or "Grief" from the Trinity Blood OST. (Here are the links in written order remove the spaces: ) However, I realized I didn't want to write a songfic just yet… so I thought I should use a song that Esther would find familiar… (sniffles) Like Snoopy in "Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" when he hears sorrowful music, I start crying every time I hear Requiem Inori. (shed tears)

Well… Sorry for leaving an evil little cliffhanger, and starting the chapter like that… (sniffles) Even _I_ started crying while writing this… So, _por favor_, please bear with me for a while, okay? I'm still trying to get my thoughts organized for Chapter III, seeing I still have some loose ends to tie up. I'll try to update ASAP.

Please R&R I would greatly appreciate that.

Mysteriously Yours, ObsidianEmpress


	4. III: Come What May

A/N: This was going to be the second half of chapter II, but decided against it. After all I'm still learning how to write Suspense stories. Also I was looking up a ton of political themes for this chapter and for many others to come. I hope I did a good job. Well anyway, there is historically based character in this chapter (I had to make my own homage, to Sunao-sensei's use of historical figures.) and I also added some crossover characters from a certain vampire OVA/ Manga series, in honor of my friend Erica-chan. (I thought: "Since this is a fanfiction…I might as well.") Here it is folks Chapter III!

**Chapter III: Come What Come May  
**_Come what come may  
__Time and the hour run through the roughest day  
_- William Shakespeare, _Macbeth Act I, Scene III_

The Queen, along with her assembly of the Privy Council, had been called into an emergency meeting early that morning. Having gathered into the Counil chamber, a classically furnished room amidst a well carpeted and guilded alabaster interior, everybody was currently seated in their allocated places.

"My Lords and Ladies, I am grateful for this prompt answer to my summons, and I thank you for attending at such an early hour," began the soprano voice of Queen Esther.

The Privy Council included only five members, all of whom shared seats in Parliament and were highly respected figures in the government. Those on the council included the head of the council, the Earl of Manchester Virgil Walsh, the Representative of the Duchy of Edinburgh James Stuart, the Countess of Oxford and the Duchess of Lancaster Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, the Countess of Cardiff Victoria Ceres and the Earl of Leicester Lewis Stone.

Virgil Walsh was a highly respected figure of the House of Manchester. The wheat blonde hair that cascaded down his back complimented his wisdom-filled, grayish-blue eyes and he was garbed impeccably in a tailored black suit. Walsh had assisted the Queen in freeing the Methuselah from the underground ghettos. He believed that through diplomacy and negotiation, the Methuselah would gain freedom. However, his sister, Vanessa, thought the only way of freeing their people was through force and violence. Two years ago, she had begun an insurrection and eventually a rebellion in the Ghettos. Vanessa had gone so far as to hold the Pope of the Catholic Church hostage to achieve her goal. But the worst was yet to come when the Order of Rosenkreuz sent a warship, an ancient artifact of Armageddon, to destroy the city of Londinium and fill the peoples' hearts with fear and terror. If it wasn't for the woman dressed in a simple gown of lapis lazuli satin, currently sitting at the head of the room upon a simple throne of velvet, and the Duchess of Milan's AX Agency of course, Londinium and it's people- no- the world would probably be burning under the ravages of a second Armageddon.

James Stuart(1) was famed for his international influence, second only to his Queen, for he was one of the young monarch's few living relatives. Further, his wife was the current President of the Francian Rebublic and their daughter was to be married to the Francian Potentate Henri XI. Yet he is also infamously remembered by the Albian people for his easily exasperated temperament. But, behind the walls of Buckingham Palace, he is a father figure to the young queen and is one of the few people who has ever seen Her Majesty cry. His goatee matched his locks of finely cut coffee brown hair and his green eyes matched his evergreen attire of a gentleman's waist coat and trousers with a properly buttoned up overcoat and around his neck was a scarf, patterned with the tartan of the Stuart clan. His worn hands held a simple staff of cherry wood and silver, in remarkably good shape considering how much his over-stimulated nerves had caused him to weary the wood.

Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing was the last of her bloodline. Her father was killed by vampires when she was only eleven and then her uncle, Richard, had attempted to kill her to gain the inheritance. Fortunately, Virgil had saved her before Richard could "off" her, proving to Integra that not all Methuselah were evil. At the age of fifteen, she had begun studying at the University of Rome where she befriended a certain nun who would eventually become the Woman of Steel, Caterina Sforza. She was a worthy opponent in politics and many called her the Iron Woman of Albion for good reason. Her skin had a slight coffee cream hue to it and her white hair fell down her back with a slight curl to the end. Light blue eyes were hidden behind golden rimmed spectacles. Her black trench coat adorned her shoulders like a cape over the black business suit and trousers with a crimson ascot around her neck. A silver Lancaster cross ornamented the red silk.

Victoria Ceres appeared to be no older than eighteen. Yet looks were deceiving for she was a formidable figure to contend with in any debate. Additionally, being a Methuselah aids in the art of intimidation, especially the way her light blue eyes would blaze crimson when angered. She had once been human and she had once feared vampires. However, she no longer bore those feelings. Virgil had saved her life as well, hers from vampire a serial killer who stalked the nights of Londinium in the guise of a priest. Virgil then had given her the offer of dying as a child of the light, or living by becoming a child of the night. She chose the life of night for she felt her duty to serve her country had not yet been fulfilled. Her wheat blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail at the nape of her neck that ended with bushy spikes. She was dressed in a casual yellow woman's business suit coat and skirt. Her shirt of white was adorned with a onyx ascot around her neck, a habit she picked up from her friend and co-worker, Integra, and black leather gloves adorned her small, yet powerful hands.

Lewis Stone was a rather cold man. He never wanted the position of Earl of Leicester. His hatred for vampires began when they had took the life of his brother, who had been his father figure the late Viscount, and his real father, the first Earl of Leicester. His hatred for the Catholic Church was caused by the fact that his remaining brother who was due to gain the Leicester inheritance, had become a hypocritical priest, leaving the Earldom to fall upon his unwilling youngest brother. Though he had been uninterested in position and power, he discovered that after tasting of it his appetite for both had grown; such that he had become the very thing he had despised. His tan skin had a hint of red to it and his thin black beard and short cropped hair had a hint of gray to it, yet what stood out the most was his cold hazel eyes. He was garbed in a highly tailored suit of navy blue. The wrinkles upon his visage disguised a sharp mind and an "enlightened" self interest. Out of all the members of the Queen's secret court, he was the least loyal.

"I would not have called you together without good cause. I have credible knowledge of a threat against my life. A threat that will be perpetrated at the next full session of Parliament," Esther stated calmly.

There was a brief moment of silence as the Council absorbed her statement. Then…

"What sort of threat?" began Virgil, who was soon cut off by the overflowing questions of the others.

"Perpetrated by whom?" questioned Integra.

"To what end, to what purpose?!" Victoria asked sharply.

"Where did you get this information?" Lewis asked suspiciously.

"My Lords and Ladies, one at a time, please!" Esther pleaded.

"'Ere we go again…" James muttered under his breath, his hand then resting upon his brow.

Esther knew she should have been answering the crush of questions her statement had unleashed, yet she couldn't help but flash back to that moment in the cemetery. Where had she gotten the information? From a source so unlikely and supernatural that she had a hard time believing it herself and she was there. How would she convince them of what she had seen when she doubted it herself?

†

_Sitting at the very heart of the graveyard had been a hooded angel. Around it were four towering obelisks of made of the hardest stone. From the shadows beneath the Angel's wings had appeared the mysterious singer_

_The midnight black cloak that had adorned the woman's shoulders blew softly in the wind. However, the hood of the cloak that concealed her face so well, it never moved from its position, despite the moaning wind._

"_Who are you?" Esther wondered aloud. _

"_She hath gone by many names in her long life;" the woman spoke, "Seer, Oracle, Prophetess; however, her most common name is Sybil of Cumae (2), Your Majesty, Queen Esther Blanchett." she sketched her a graceful bow. "As to what she is… that will be revealed in time."_

"_Why are you here?" the redhead had whispered._

"_She is here to warn thee, best beloved star of hope. There will be an attempt against thy life. If thou do not heed this warning, this world may fall into ash once more."_

"_An attempt? From whom?"_

"_Thou already knoweth this answer before thou even speaketh it, My Lady. The Night Lord, Contra Mundi. The one whom hath slain the Dark Angel." _

"_If you know whom you speak of… then you must already know who killed him…it was _I_ who killed him." Tears began to sting her dark lapis lazuli eyes as her voice had cracked. "If there is anyone to blame for his death, it would be _me_, Sybil, _I'm_ the one who aided _him_."_

"_That is not true. Even if thou were not there… the Contra Mundi, would have killed him nevertheless. The second born was no match for _his_ power. However, you need not mourn any longer. For he lives and still walks this earth in pursuit of _him_."_

_Her eyes widened. Abel was alive? How? She saw him fall to Earth, no one can survive falling from that height! "He is…" She could hardly bring herself to say the words_

_The Sybil nodded._

_Esther gasped. She couldn't believe it. Abel was alive. But the moment, the thought came into her mind, sorrow began to take its place. Even if he wasn't dead, he, no doubt by now, hated her. After all she disobeyed him when he had ordered her to stay in the palace, it was she who had followed _him_ into the Ghetto and she was the one who watched _him_ as _he_ killed him, the one whom her heart had loved. She turned her head down in remorse and regret._

"_Don't be saddened by this news," the Sybil said in the softest, comforting voice. "He bears no anger or hatred against thee. She tells thee the truth. He wishes to see thee again. She knows." Her lips curved into a familiar smile, but then her face became grave and serious. "Listen now," she continued. "_His_ intention is to no longer claim the ARK to become this world's prince_..._" _

"_The ARK?" Esther echoed. _

_The Sybil then extended her index finger and pointed it to the sky. Esther followed her lead and staring back at her was a smaller, distorted moon, tainting the silver light of the Night's Eye like a lurid shadow. _

_After the Armageddon, there appeared a second moon, called the "Vampire's Moon." No one knows where it came from, as no one knows how the vampires came into being. Was it the Devil's own prank? Was it an ancient artifact of lost technology like the Star of Sorrow? That knowledge was lost to the Dark Ages. However, there were many whispers that when the vampires came from that moon to this world, they brought war, terror and strife with them. The humans feared and hated them once they set their eyes upon them. There was so much horror and bloodshed. Eventually, it led to that last, great war that everyone, both human and vampire alike, still feared would one day be sparked again. Esther knew how fragile the balance was between the two races. For she experienced that herself, in the time she spent in the AX, in the Empire, and in the time she spent with…him. _

"His_ intention now… is thee," the Sybil suddenly said, snapping her out of her silent reverie. _

_Esther had a suspicion that _he_ would eventually attempt to take her life, now that suspicion was confirmed. Not only was she the Queen of Albion, she was the Lady Saint of István, a heroic icon of the Catholic Church. To kill her would have not only Albion in an uproar, but also the Vatican and Hungaria. To die at the hands of a vampire or one of _his_ minions would spark the war that _he_ so desires to create. However _his_ attack might be a personal issue. After all the _his_ Order's last target was Londinium and it was also that she might have prevented _him_ from…"I will not let _him_ take my life." she said with determination "But, is this because I am the Queen or is it because I…" Before Esther could finish her question the Sybil had answered:_

"_Yes, that is true. Thou art the one who prevented _him_ from taking the Dark Angel's body. _He_ desires revenge, as any one who follows in the path of the Morning Star," She snarled at the name, "However, there is another reason. Time will only tell her which decision _he_ will make. _He_ will attempt to take thy life on the fifth of November, during the full session of Parliament. But beware, there are vipers in the court of Albion. The Bloody Rose has already sided with _him_. They will take control once thou art dead and will lead Albion into ruin. Take heed. Your decision will decide the fate of this world now."_

_And Esther was alone._

†

"Your Majesty?" Virgil queried. "Are you alright?"

The members of the Council were staring at her quizzedly. Had she really paused for that long?

"The threat…" answered the Queen, after taking a breath calming herself, "is an assassination attempt against my life on the day the houses of Parliament meet on November the fifth. Whomever and whatever is intent upon killing me is uncertain, but I have a suspicion as to whom, due to my… _reliable _resource. However, I fear what the people should feel, should their Queen miss Parliament. That is the reason we have assembled here."

"I understand your concern, Your Majesty," began Virgil Walsh, who had kept his calm demeanor. "This is not only a difficult decision for you, it is also a harder choice for me. However, if your resource is reliable and accurate about this assassination, I believe you have all right to cancel the Parliament session. The House of Lords and the House of Commons would understand."

"Forgive me for my frankness, Lord Walsh," cut in Lord Integra, "You have too much faith in the understanding of the people. Not many nobles nor the Albian media would be so understanding. Besides the Knights of Tudor would see this as a sign of weakness in our Queen and we all know the concern regarding their ideals."

Many knew the Knights of Tudor. They were the radical faction of the Albian people who didn't believe in peace or coexistence between humans and vampires and dared to question the Queen's decision of freeing the Methuselah from the Ghettos. They believed that the Queen was corrupt for having sided with the Duchess of Milan in terms of peace and diplomacy between the two races. They would, if they could, replace her with another candidate of their party to achieve their goal of "purity." Many suspected the High Chancellor Adam Sutler to be their leader, but there was insufficient proof of his ties with them. Skipping a session of Parliament would show a sign of weakness the Queen could not afford to give them.

"No, Integra," began Victoria Ceres. Normally, the Countess of Cardiff and the Duchess of Lancaster would be on the same side, but apparently, today was not such a day. "The Knights of Tudor would use that opportunity to take control once she was _dead_."

"Integra and Victoria on a different side of the debate… that's shocking." Lewis whispered under his breath.

"Your Majesty." Victoria addressed the Queen, "My concern is for more than your safety. Should you die, the people of Albion would be in chaos and so would your home country of Hungaria and the Vatican. Should the assailant be a Methuselah, it would mean the next Armageddon."

"I object, Your Majesty," began the languid voice of Lewis Stone. "I happen to agree with Lady-"

"Lord Integra." The Countess of Oxford corrected.

"Lord Integra," Lewis continued, his voice thick with annoyance. "Those Tudor Knights would definitely view this as a sign of weakness should you cancel Parliament. You cannot allow the House of Blanchett to be intimidated. You have already made unpopular decisions that have caused others to question your ability to rule," he finished, glaring in Victoria and Virgil's direction.

Virgil sighed heavily. "If the source is accurate, we cannot dismiss this so lightly."

"How reliable is the source?" Lewis countered. "We would have heard of it." Lord Chamberlain Lewis Stone, the principal official in charge of royal household, hated being caught "unawares" as it were.

"I trust it to be reliable," Esther answered.

"Your life is too valuable to take chances with," Ceres insisted.

"Besides, if you cannot cite whom or what your _reliable _resource is, the people of Albion would be in an uproar should you cancel Parliament," the Earl of Leicester declared.

"In what way would not citing the source infuriate the people?" Integra retorted. "It seems only to be a problem with _you_ not trusting your Queen rather than her people."

"My concern is how the Queen will be viewed after canceling a full session of Parliament on something as insubstantial as a 'reliable source'."

"You just want to be certain that she shows up because you want to look good in front of the House of Lords, you social climbing -" she then said a word that wouldn't have been appropriate in any language concerning a man's relationship with his mother.

"How _DARE_ you!" Lewis screeched and rose out of his seat. "You question _my honor, _you filthy _VAMPIRE_?!" His face became flushed with anger.

"_I'M_ not the one who is trying to kill off our sovereign!" Victoria then snapped back rising from her chair to stare her crimson eyes into the Earl of Leicester's. "Or spark another Armageddon you son of a-!"

"ENOUGH!"

The room went silent.

"Could ya both sho' enou' compassion to stop vexing an ol' man's poor nerves (3)?" James then broke the silence that he kept during the meeting, twisting his staff so fast could have erupted into flame. "And Ceres would you PLEASE stop using that fou' language 'ere? Those words alone would make a sailor blush!"

Lewis alternated between glaring at James and glowering at Victoria.

"Your Majesty," began James who still hadn't shared his opinion.

"Yes, Lord Stuart?"

"I do think you should take the _necessary precautions_ and attend Parliament. This way no one would be angered over your absence and perhaps we could solve the issue at hand, if there should be an assassination attempt." He then stroked the head of silver of the staff with his index finger.

Esther got the message immediately. The _necessary precautions _was in actuality a plan that was inspired by the Duchess of Moldova and the Empress of the New Human Empire -Who was not only her closest friend but also her beloved's long lost little sister, though Esther dared not to tell her about her involvement in his "death." However, over the past two years, she had an inkling that Her Imperial Majesty was hiding something from her.- It was Cardinal Sforza, Lord Walsh, Colonel Spencer and Lord Stuart's suggestion that should there be an attempt on her life she should have some form of plan to counteract this ambition.

"Very well… I will attend Parliament and I shall then take the… _necessary precautions_. Thank you for attending. You are all dismissed," Esther finished.

And all was said. As her advisors filed out of the meeting chamber, she once again drifted back in her thoughts to her meeting with the Sybil and the way in which it had ended. There was something disturbingly familiar about her, yet she could not place from where or when she recognized her.

†

"_Sybil?" Esther called. "Sybil?" she called out louder, looking all around the graveyard for any trace of her. _

_My Heavenly Father… she thought. Did you just send me an angel, like you did once before? When I had lost all hope? Then her eyes fell upon the gravestone were the fresh poppy still lay. _

"_Father Nightroad…" she asked aloud, "is it true that you have forgiven me? Will I see you again?"_

You have to ask? Really?…I am your friend. I will always be on your side.

_She heard him! She heard his voice again. Bringing her comfort and hope as he did once before. She then looked up to the dark moon, like she was challenging evil itself, and held her rosary tightly in her right hand._

"_I won't let _him_ defeat me… I won't be defeated…because I am not alone. Never. I won't let someone like _him_ defeat me. I won't give _him_ my life." she said in the most solemnest of oaths, for the words of his promise filled her heart and gave her courage. The same courage she had gained to speak to her people on the night before she had ascended the throne that was rightfully hers._

"_My Heavenly Father. Watch over me. Yet most importantly watch over him. Wherever he is."_

Next chapter: Sibylline Prophesy  
Avert not, thine eyes

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Terminology

Lord President of the Council - the cabinet minister in the U.K. government who presides over meetings of the Privy Council.

Prince of the World / Morning Star - titles that once belonged to Lucifer/ the Devil, like "the Prince of Darkness". Quoted from Isaiah 14:12 and Luke 4:5 - 4:7 NIV.

(1) Based off of the King of Scotland James V. It is historically accurate that James was the husband to Marie de Guise, and father to Mary Stuart, the future Queen of Scots. However, he never knew his daughter, for he died a few months after she was born. Moreover, his exasperation isn't a historical trait; he is also based off of the famed Angus Mac Badger from _The Wind in the Willows_ by Kenneth Grahame. (I had to watch the Disney version of the movie for a Literature class project long ago. I felt like I had to add that specific character trait.)

(2) Based off of the famed Seer of the Roman Empire. She also makes an appearance on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Rome and in Virgil's epic _The Aneid_. However this character will show up in more chapters to come.

(3) Indirect quote to Jane Austen's _Pride and Prejudice_. The original quote was made by Mrs. Bennett to her husband with: "You take delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves."

A/N: So how did ya'll like them crossovers? No, I'm not a devoted fan of _Hellsing_ but I liked Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing and Victoria Ceres/ Seras Victoria, I felt like I had to add them in. Kudos points goes to the one who can spot the Bizenghast and the "My Fair Lady" references. For once this chapter ends on a more cheerful note that it's predecessors but I still have some loose ends I need to tie up before Chapter IV is finished. The dress Esther is wearing can be found on this peculiar, yet wonderful web link: (Remove the spaces. Now I understand why people say that FF. net is picky. (Hacks program with pickaxe.))

Please R&R I would greatly appreciate that.

Mysteriously Yours, ObsidianEmpress


	5. IV: Sybiline Phrophesy

A/N: This chapter was going to be the first chapter… but I decided against it. After **Jedi Skysinger** read this… (Now note that **Jedi Skysinger **is my editor so if she says something's wrong/cheesy/too much I have to take her word for it.) She agreed with me, so now it's Chapter IV. (Thank you **Jedi Skysinger**.) Well… here he is! The characters ya'll have been waiting for! Please welcome Father Abel Nightroad and Earl Ion Fortuna! (He. He. Sorry… been watching too much TV again…)

**Chapter IV: Sibylline Prophesy  
**_Thither he  
__Will come to know his destiny…  
__He shall spurn fate, scorn death and bear  
__His hopes 'bove wisdom grace and fear  
_- William Shakespeare,_ Macbeth Act III, Scene V_

The wind was cold against his cheek as it blew the silver strands of his hair against his face. His heart had become cold again as well, cold with not only hatred for himself, deplorable creature he once was and still is, but also hatred for the _other_ that he could never forgive.

His heart was also cold with grief, because he had to leave _her_ behind. He wished he could see her again, wished that his last memory of her would be different. He remembered her face as he had called out her name with his last breath. He wished that he hadn't seen her widened eyes as they had looked briefly at him after he was revived. He wished with all his heart that she hadn't seen him as a Dark Devil before his fight against the Advent Angel. However, if he went back, she would no doubt turn away from him, as she had done the first time. Her lapis lazuli eyes had been filled with terror when she saw him the first time as the Angel of Destruction. When he had tried to reassure her that it was all right; she had screamed at him to keep away. But his shame was not the only thing that prevented him from returning to her. It was his desire to protect her from _him_. No doubt that _he_ would be delighted to murder her as _he_ had murdered his beloved, turning his heart into a stone then.

Strange how his lost beloved could still love him, even when he had become the Enemy of the World and slaughtered millions of humans, the very beings she had tried to protect. He was in blood, so steeped so far that he could wade no more, not even great Neptune's oceans could wash it clean from his hands (1).

Suddenly, another cold gush of wind came against him, jarring him from his reverie. Strangely, this blast carried with it an ethereal song. He turned his attention to his companion, who was garbed in a cloak of pure white. Copper orbs, which were slightly hidden by the locks of pale blonde hair, met his crystal blue eyes, hidden behind silver-rimmed glass. The boy wondered what was wrong, then the wind picked up again and now he knew what his companion was about to ask him. The boy nodded to him, confirming that what he had heard was no delusion. The song was eerie and unnatural, yet beautiful; the ethereal voice of a woman. What the song meant, they did not know. It was sung in a language that seemed Oriental in origin and the voice held both age and youth as she sang. Yet the tone of this song is filled with grief and longing. A fragment of a memory came to mind. There was something hauntingly familiar about the song, a song of lament - a requiem.

_Nightlord_...

The voice rang clearly in his mind, like someone had spoken aloud. It was the woman's voice. It was not the possibility he had lost his senses that troubled him, but rather how did she know him by that _other_ name. No one, after nine hundred years, had _ever_ addressed him by that name. He had abandoned it long ago after he had made the choice of carrying on his fallen beloved's task. She was determined to protect the humans and saw no difference between Terran or Methuselah. That name alone was a reminder of what he had been.

Abel Nightroad, former AX enforcement officer for the Vatican's Department of Foreign Affairs' AX Agency, whipped around. His black robes swirled with the wind and the motion. Searching the landscape behind, he found nothing but the ruins of the space facility he had just sealed and deactivated. Ahead he saw nothing but the wasteland in which it had been hidden. Russia in winter had not been a hospitable place before the Armageddon, especially after sunset. Now it was only known as the Dark Lands, nothing more than a wilderness of ice and snow. He turned again, facing his companion, who looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"What is it, Father?" His companion shouted over the wind.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, I hear the song." the boy replied. He obviously had not heard the name.

Ion Fortuna, the Count of Memphis, of Empire of the True Race, had always respected Father Nightroad, even though his former goofy manner left him baffled at times. However, Ion wasn't too certain if Abel had lost his mind over the course of their journey, even though since the beginning of their quest he was always quiet, always sullen. He had joined Father Nightroad in his quest to destroy _him_ for revenge. After all, _he_ led the Order of Rosenkreuz, the very people who had mutilated his late Tovaråş, Radu Barvon, the Baron of Luxor. Radu had been Ion's brother in all elements except in blood. Even though Radu himself joined the Order and betrayed him, Ion couldn't bring himself to hate him. Radu did not deserve what _they_ did to him. _They_ had used his deceased body for the purpose of not only killing Ion and his grandmother, but also the very person whom he owed allegiance, the Empress Augusta Vradica, sister to the man that stood before him now. Ion wouldn't let the Order go without retribution for the loss of Radu; that was reason why he had accompanied Father Nightroad into the Forbidden Lands, as of which they were called in the Empire.

Abel turned again, searching the rolling hills, blanketed with frost and ice surrounding the former spaceport, the gateway _he_ had attempted to use for escape. In the distance, a figure emerged from behind a hillock covered with barren trees. Abel felt his eyes widen as he took in the slight frame, dressed only in a cloak blacker than the night around them and a thin dress that made the snow look gray by comparison.

She moved, or at least he assumed it was a woman, quickly to where he and his companion stood. Her grace was unnatural. So much so that even a Methuselah would have looked clumsy beside her. Though the cloak whipped violently in the wind, the hood never moved, it never revealed her face.

She spoke in language that he was ignorant of, yet while she spoke, her voice made the language into music. She looked up slightly. Abel then followed her gaze to see a star that had just revealed itself in the blanket of black.

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting, (2)" she translated and then laid her hand over her heart and bowed her head towards to the two. "It is an honor for her to finally meet thee, Nightlord. And ye too, Earl of Memphis," she continued.

"Who are you? How do you know us?" Ion asked suspiciously.

She chuckled. "Ye shall receive thy answers from her. Nonetheless, ye shall know her name; her name is the Sybil of Cumae. She has been watching ye both for some time and she has a prophesy for thine companion, Count Fortuna, let her speak."

"A prophesy?" the priest echoed.

"A prophesy concerning whether this world will die in fire and blood or whether this world will be spared. It would be considered a message for thee, seeing thou share a part in this."

_For thou hath once been this world's enemy, and only thou knoweth how to prevent it._

Abel's eyes widened and gasped when she heard her voice in his mind once more. How did she know that? The only few who knew that were his lost love, his sister, the Cardinal and _him_ and _his_ minions. Unless, she was one of _his_.

"No, Nightlord," she chuckled, and then her voice became grave. "She does not belong to anyone that shares the goal of that damned spawn of the Shadow." The last word came out like a snarl. "Nor does she wish this world's demise. That is why she hath sought out thee and thine companion. She has come to tell ye of what she hath foreseen."

"What are you, a fortune teller?" Ion asked.

"She is far beyond those witches and warlocks. Her Sight comes not from those of the Shadow, but from He who sees all, the Father. Listen well, for this might change the course of this world. "

"Go on," Abel encouraged her.

Suddenly from under the cloak, two white orbs flashed along with a cross, like rays from the morning sun, from where her eyes and forehead should be.

Suddenly a flood of images rose up before his eyes. He was still in the barren wasteland with the Sybil before him and Ion beside him, but he also was gone, to where the pictures of this future flowed before him in a waking dream, colors, sounds.

_He saw two angels amongst darkened skies with the only light emanating from the moon and its red twisted twin. _

"**The one with the power to vanquish the Angel of Death has returned…"**Her voice was different now, it was no longer the music he had heard, it was… distorted like two people were speaking at the same time through her.

_One angel was garbed in white with six white wings holding a black spear. _

"**And the Angel of Death shall mark him as his equal, yet he has power that the Angel of Death can never possess…**

_The other was black with blue markings, covering his body, his wings were bladed-like bat wings and in his hands, a blood red, distorted double-bladed scythe. _

"**And either must die at the hand of the other for neither one can live while the other survives…"**

_As their weapons clashed, like thunder, the skies were lit with red and blue flames as they roared in fury_.

The scene finally broke apart in fragments. Something cold, and… wet was underneath him. Suddenly, Abel realized he was lying on his back, on the snowy ground, clutching the gunmetal rosary that hung around his neck.

"Father Nightroad!" Ion screamed as he grabbed Abel by the shoulders, helping him up. As the priest carefully came to settle on his knees, Ion's coppery eyes blazed crimson with anger and his face distorted with rage. His lips curled back from his teeth, revealing very short, but very sharp fangs.

"What did you do to him?!" Ion demanded as he whirled to face the presumed source of Abel's pain. He pulled out the short scimitar from its sheath, his most preferred weapon.

As a Spåtar(3), the Empress' sword bearer, Ion had been trained in the way of the sword. He knew the way of honor and of chivalry that came with the training, especially from the Captain of the Yeniçeri. The woman who stood before him had taken down his companion without even a qualm. She _would_ pay for that!

"Ion, wait!"

The moment his sword was unsheathed, it was too late. He moved with a speed that made him invisible to the average human, he jumped as he lunged his sword toward his opponent, his blade aimed for her head.

He froze and then slowly looked up. The Sybil was holding the edge of the blade with just two fingers! Suddenly, an energy like that of flames surged through him. He realized a second later that he was on the ground. His sword lay in the snow, sizzling like a hot iron in water.

"H-How?!" he stammered.

"Thou would be wise not to attack in anger. Thou art impulsive, yet she sees thou hast a high value of honor. A true knight of the Empire; nonetheless, thou art reckless." She smiled. "Bear that in mind, Count Fortuna. Thy abilities will be needed in what is yet to come."

"What is that?" he asked, realizing he was gasping for air, the frost making his breath like smoke escaping from his lips.

"Ye will know eventually, Count Fortuna. For many others, including thee, are involved in this twist of fortune. Ye will soon know your purpose."

Abel got back onto his feet. He dusted the excess snow off and pushed his glasses back over the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. "Tell me…" he asked the Sybil. "What was that you've just shown me?"

"That…is what she had foreseen," the Sybil replied matter-of-factly. "Whether the Dark Angel or the Angel of Death will be victorious is uncertain. One thing that is certain… this battle will cost one of thy lives…"

"_And either must die at the hand of the other for neither one can live while the other survives…__**"**_

Abel narrowed his winter blue eyes and said, "I do not fear death… nor do I fear _him_."

"Unfortunately, Nightlord, she hath not completed her full purpose. The prophesy wasn't the only message. She hath also come to warn thee about the Angel of Death's recent plot against _Csillag_.(4)"

"_Csillag_?" he echoed.

_Someone that thou now holdeth close to thy heart, the way thee hath once loved the Nia Sancta_._ She fuels thee, gives ye hope_._ Yet Death is no fool and cannot be kept ignorant for long_.

Suddenly the Sybil spoke three words that pierced his heart; the three words that he never wanted to hear.

"_He_ knows, Nightlord."

"**What did you say?"**he asked in a voice that was colder than the ice and darker than the night that engulfed them. The hairs on the back of Ion's neck stood up and he shivered, but it wasn't from the frost.

That one single sentence brought all of his fear and anger to life, so much so that a blood red shade emanated from the icy depths of his eyes. The Dark Angel of Destruction within him was threatening to break free. The Crusnik, the mark of his sins, the very side of him that he feared and hated above all others and yet it was also a part of him, demanded to be given voice. _They_ desired the spilling of blood, death and destruction the very things that stained his soul and thus forever marked as an enemy of the world, just like _him_. Rage rose up from within him once more, the very thing that had once led him into the abyss. In the end, it had brought him nothing but despair and ruin… and the loss of his beloved…

"_He_ knows, and _he_ will try to claim her. You know of whom she speaks, Nightlord. _He_ has abandoned his original plan to seek the pathway to stars and claim the Vampire's Moon to regain the power to destroy this world. However, before that, _he_ will destroy thee and _he_ knows what to use against thee. _He_ will use _her_ and then destroy her after her use has ended."

He had to protect her. Abel could not allow _him_ to destroy her as _he_ had his beloved. His very being cried against it. But the how eluded him. To defend her, to protect her, to stay by her side as he promised her from the beginning… that is what he had to do. Except, to wait for _him_ to make the first move, to be on the defensive, when he should be ridding the world of _his _evil before _he_ even had a chance to think about _his _move against her, much less make a move against her. To eliminate the threat _forever_ with his own hands for her and for the whole world….

"It is thy choice, Nightlord, thine and thine alone. She leaves the fate of this world in thy hands."

Abel closed his eyes and tried to calm the thoughts swirling in his head.

He had to protect her. To fail was intolerable, but how _could_ he protect her after all the times he had failed so many others…

_You've failed time and again at protecting the ones who are important to you_... _and this time won't be any different_. The Magician's words came back to him, taunting him.

_Just like that…you immediately…make the world your enemy, don't you, Abel_? The memory of _his_ words followed, unbidden and unwanted. He pushed it away, hoping to find hope to hold on to.

Ion broke his reverie with a shout. "Where did she-?"

Abel's eyes flew open and he scanned the bleak countryside around them as best he could in the gathered gloom. "What happened?" he demanded of the young Methuselah.

"I was looking at you for a moment, Father, and when I looked back, that woman was gone."

_Abel… _

He gasped. He _knew_ this voice. It wasn't the Sybil's voice; it was a voice that he thought he never hear again.

_I know you love the world_.

Lilith…his fallen beloved. Was this a sign…? Was she speaking to him again…? Was she aware of his pain… and did she… did she know about her…?

_You've made the world your enemy…but that is only proof of your love. Because you love and you believe…you were so hurt when you had thought you have been betrayed_. _And you made the world your enemy_. _But even so…you still love this planet_.

For thriteen years, he served the AX, Arcanum Cella ex Dono Dei, the Secret Chamber in Virtue of the Gift of God, protecting and defending humans from the vampires who craved for war, in atonement for his sins. During that time, he met her. The girl whom he had promised to always be on her side. She reminded him of Lilith in spirit, yet she was _herself_, unique and precious to him all the same. Right from the beginning he knew that there was something special about her, yet she didn't deserve a monster like him. What differed between her and Noélle? Noélle was a close friend, but _she_ was something more than that, something about her that brought back feelings in his heart that he thought he'd never feel again…

However, three years ago, he had learned that _he_ was still alive, and he vowed then and there he would destroy _him_, even if the journey would take him to the end of time. Then when he first saw _him_ again, he saw her, and _he_ took the opportunity to kill him. His last sight was her; his last word was her name.

Esther…

_I don't understand…why, Father?_

_You have to ask? Really? Well…it is because I am your friend… and I will always be on your side_.

He now knows, maybe too late, that his feelings for her are more than just friendship. Yet, he fears…that she still fears him or that she now hates him. He had thought that he'd sealed that when he left her like that, he didn't see her when she was crowned Queen of Albion, nor did he say goodbye to her. He thought that _he_ had a reason enough to kill her now; he didn't want to give _him_ another one. Yet after hearing his worst fear… He then realizes that there is no other choice, and then he makes it.

_I know your soul Abel_… _You can start over anytime you want. _

He suddenly turned his heel, taking the path that now lay before him. A path that he should have taken long ago, a path that would've spared him all the strife and ruin that he had caused the world long ago. Taking a step into a new beginning.

Ion, who had grown increasing frustrated with Abel's blank stare and silence, was momentarily stunned by his sudden movement. "Wh-Where are you going?" Ion asked.

And then Abel gave Ion his answer. Whether this answer will doom the world they do not know, he puts all his hope and his faith in God that he has made the right choice:

"_We_ are going to Albion."

_Never, ever forget that. _

Next Chapter: Politics and Memories  
Avert not thine eyes.

* * *

A/N: I was going to put this in for Chapter I but now I'm glad that I didn't. I hope I steered clear from "Mary Sue-dom" for my OC.

Updated A/N: Note: After re-writing some of the previous chapters because I chose to remove a certain story arc that was taking the fanfiction a completely wrong direction I also deceided to change the phrophesy from a Harry Potter related one to my own one (since at the time I wrote this I didn't know how to write phrophesies) So anyway I hope you all enjoy the rewrite. ^^

(1) Quoted from Shakespeare's most famous play _Macbeth_. The first quote is from Act III, Scene IV:"I am in blood/ Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more"and from Act II, Scene II:"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood/ Clean from my hand?" I thought these quotes screamed Abel Nightroad. The second quote is ironic seeing that he mourned Noélle at the Fountain of Neptune in Episode XI. He probably asked himself that question plenty of times.

(2) Quoted from J.R.R Tolkien's _The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring_. This is the Elvish version of the quote: "Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo." I thought I might add some symbolism for stars seeing that Esther's name means "star".

(3) Spåtar, or Sipahi, means Sword bearer. The Sword bearer of the Empress in Trinity Blood deals with Imperial decrees that belongs to the State Secrets Institution, the Empress' investigation organization. I wanted to use the term "Sipahi," from the Manga, yet when I saw this version of the word from the official booklets I felt like I had to use it.

(4) Csillag. Hungarian for "Star", in the Novels and the Manga, this was Esther's name in the rebel force of István, known the Partisans.

(**Bold**) Based off of the prophesy from _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_.I'm not too good at writing prophesies; besides I think that prophesy about Harry and Voldemort sounded perfect for Cain and Abel.

All quotes by Cain and Lilith are from the Trinity Blood Manga, Volume V.

I never knew who Lilith was originally, until I actually had the courage enough to watch the last episode. I've heard about her, but I never knew about the major role she played in Abel's life. If it weren't for her… I probably wouldn't have liked the way Abel would've turned out. Some people said that Lilith was Abel's mother; others said that she was Abel's eldest sister, and then others said she was his first love. Then when I read the "Milk Tea Series" by Sith Lady **Darth Stitch **and "Star of the Night Lords" and "Heir to the Night Lord" stories by **Lil-Rahl**, I then fell into the third category. However, **Jedi Skysinger **thinks that Lilith was more of a mother figure to Abel…

Please R&R I would greatly appreciate that.

Mysteriously Yours, ObsidianEmpress


	6. V: Politics and Memories

A/N: Good readers of FF, your forgiveness I implore for not updating faster than I had wished, but still, it took me a while to come up with this. However, thanks to Manga volume IV and Sith Lady **Darth Stitch**-sama's Fanfic "Beautiful Disaster," I figured it out. This chapter presents a certain blonde Cardinal form Milan, a Holographic Maiden and a Genius with which we are all too well acquainted. So please give a warm welcome to Cardinal Caterina Sforza, Sister Kate and the Professor! (Sorry, I just can't stop doing that. (Facepalms))

**Chapter V: Politics and Memories  
**_Some holy angel  
__Fly to the court of England and unfold  
__His message ere he come, that of a swift blessing  
__May soon return to this hour of our suffering country  
__Under a hand accursed!  
_-William Shakespeare,_ Macbeth Act III, Scene IV_

Darkness descended upon the city like a velvet blanket. The major source of light emanated from the sky, from far off stars and lurid haze of the Vampire's Moon. However, the most prominent light emanated from the lights of God's Most High Church, the Vatican, proving to the world that even though vampires haunt the darkness, the Light of God will outshine them and prove victorious.

In a simply furnished office of beige alabaster, where floor to ceiling windows were adorned with silk curtains, upon a velveted chair behind a desk of hand carved mahogany sat a woman garbed in the highest Cardinal robes of Vatican Office. One sky blue eye was hidden behind a golden-rimmed monocle while her hair, a curled golden waterfall that fell down to her waist, framed her beautiful face.

Cardinal Caterina Sforza, the Duchess of Milan, Chief Minister of the Vatican's Holy Ministry of State and head of the Arcanum Cella ex Dono Dei (1), in short the AX, was currently sipping at a chamomile, lemon grass and peppermint tea, held in a cup of crystalline glass and gold upon a saucer of the whitest porcelain. Just a few minutes ago, she had just returned from a rather taxing meeting in which her elder brother -Cardinal Francesco di Medici, the Duke of Florence, Chief Minister of Doctrine and General Commander of the Department of the Inquisition- had engaged in yet another verbal war, with the topic being, as always, the now public peace treaty between the Vatican and the Empire, known now as the Accords. Fortunately, the College of Cardinals sided with Cardinal Sforza in the rather boisterous argument, leaving Cardinal di Medici scowling as the heated debate ended.

Caterina herself had dreamed of the day when her work for diplomacy and peace could be made openly. She was not only grateful to God for giving her younger brother, His Holiness Pope Alessandro XVIII, the strength to stand up to Francesco -which was no easy feat- but also for Queen Esther Blanchett of Albion, one of her former colleagues and friends. Caterina would be eternally grateful to Esther, not only in terms of politics, but in a far more personal matter concerning a certain silver haired man that had been with her since childhood. It wasn't uncommon for Caterina and Francesco to butt heads, not only in the Vatican's meeting hall -the Room of the Archangel (2)-, but also in the relations between the Vatican's own departments, namely the Inquisition and the AX, especially when it concerned not only domestic policy with fellow human states, but also in the diplomatic relations with the Empire in the East, the Tzara Methuselute, where vampires dwelt and reigned supreme.

"Lady Caterina!"

Suddenly, before the Cardinal was a woman with azure eyes which complimented her wheat blonde hair. A black beauty mark decorated the corner of her left eye. Her pure white nun's habit, with a cyan lining, was slightly puffed out in the skirt and sleeves. However, an unusual fact about this nun was that she hovered slightly above the floor and her body was nearly see-through.

Sister Kate Scott, Captain of the Vatican battleship _Iron Maiden II_, was not only one of Cardinal Sforza's personal secretaries, but also one of Caterina's closest friends. Even though her body was currently in a coma, through the holographic system that was hooked up to her mind, she was still an amazing asset. However, her communication wasn't only limited to the holographic system. Through special earpieces, a lost technology that was of incredible use, Sister Kate could not only speak to Cardinal Caterina, but to the rest of the AX as well and they to her. Just recently, Sister Kate had heard a voice that she thought she would never hear again.

"Yes, Sister Kate, what's the matter?" asked Caterina.

"It's him. Former AX Agent, Crusnik, Father Abel Nightroad."

"What?" There was an edge of surprise in her voice; however, due to years of experience; she managed to control herself, thus her alias of the "Woman of Steel."

"He has asked to make contact with you," Sister Kate stated

Caterina was shocked. Abel? He was back? Was he returning to the AX? Yet one question rose up out the river that flowed in her mind, why? Why would he return?

"Very well. Bring him up."

†

"You wanted to see me? Your Eminence?" a priest asked while sucking the tip of a sea foam colored pipe, a gift from the Cardinal in question.

"I thank you, William, I hope my summons wasn't an inconvenience for you," replied Caterina.

"Relax. This saves me a whole hour of grading university papers. I'm not too sure whether or not I'll be able to tolerate another go of 'how to' recipes. Really, students nowadays," the priest stated while shaking his head.

"That's fine, Professor."

Father William Walter Wordsworth, commonly known as the Professor, was also one of Caterina's closest comrades, having known her for over ten, no... fifteen years now. Father Wordsworth not only worked in the AX, but also had teaching credentials at the University of Rome. However, he preferred working in the AX over teaching "bothersome" students. His short brown hair was parted just over his sea green eyes and his black cassock would have resembled more of a seminarian uniform, if it weren't for the cloak that decorated his shoulders. In his hand, he held a silver cane, one of William's spectacular inventions. The wrinkles on his visage disguised a sharp mind. Just because he was brilliant; however, it didn't necessarily mean he was smart in a practical sense.

"Is it true what Sister Kate told me, that an old friend of ours is now back in the AX?" William asked.

"Indeed, I just spoke with him. He has asked to renew his AX membership after these two long years."

"I still can't believe how two years could feel like two lifetimes, Your Grace," he sighed. "I guess without Abel… everything feels as if time just slowed down until he returns," he then took a drag from his pipe.

For over the past few months after the Accords were signed by the Empire representative, Astharoshe Asran the Duchess of Kiev and Viscountess of Odessa, Cardinal Sforza, Pope Alessandro XVIII and Queen Esther I, things have been in complete disarray mostly because of Cardinal Francesco and a certain few of the Inquisition. Fortunately for Caterina, Brother Petros's- the Chief Bureau Director of the Inquisitorial Department- loyalty to the Pope far exceeded his loyalties to her half-brother. When the Pope had made known that his desire was to make peace with the Empire, the Head Inquisitor dared not question his authority and silenced all those who would. Now that the tide had turned in favor of Caterina, it was Francesco's turn to hide his ambitions in the shadows.

Every so often the Chief Minister of Doctrine would try to stage a conflict with vampires, using those who were loyal to him in the Inquisitorial Department -Sister Paula, Brother Matthias, and Brother Philippo, to name a few- in an effort to prove to the Holy See that the Accords should be demolished. His desire was to start their crusades against the "inhuman monsters" again to prove to the world that the Vatican was indeed a mighty force stronger than a whole nation of non humans. If the peace treaty failed, not only would the world suffer under another Terran-Methuselah conflict of Post-Armageddon days, Caterina would not only loose her political power as a Cardinal, but also her life. Fortunately, the AX often thwarted these attempts and peace resumed. Unfortunately, Francesco was beginning to get desperate and his endeavors were getting out of hand.

"If Abel Nightroad, one of the strongest agents in the AX, returned at this time, it would be a great benefit to the agency," he observed.

"I suppose it will," she sighed, "when he actually gets here."

It seemed the only way to stop the Duke of Florence was present solid proof to the College of Cardinals of his illegal political abuses and the crimes of sedition for going against the doctrine of the Pope. As Minister of Doctrine, Francesco was supposed to be upholding the doctrines of the church when in truth he only believed that when people went against _his_ doctrines, and not those of the Pope, they were committing the heinous crime of "heresy" and he had acted accordingly.

William cocked an eyebrow, watching the smoke trail lazily, upward from his pipe. "He's not actually back yet?"

"He said he had unfinished business in Albion."

"Albion?" William smirked. "Shall I speculate on the nature of this unfinished business? I cannot tell you outright without violating the seal of the confessional."

"I'm not requiring you break any vows, William. It's not hard to guess the source of his unfinished business, just the exact nature of it."

In spite of herself, Caterina's mind drifted towards speculation of whether Abel's reasons were political, personal or both. She frequently found herself in the same position. Even now, with the Accords signed and sealed, Caterina had expected her rash, violent and militaristic half-brother to start an outright rebellion, or to split with the Church, but strangely enough, he hadn't done any such thing. Maybe it was because of a certain Cardinal (3), who had been recently accepted into the Holy See, due the resigning of the former Minister of Public Relations.

"It would be a good time for him to return. I suspect that new cardinal will not keep your brother at bay indefinitely," William stated after taking another lengthy draw of his pipe.

"You never cease to surprise me with your seeming ability to read my mind," Caterina remarked mildly.

Ever since he arrived, this Cardinal had changed everything within the Vatican. The Cardinal had a strange charisma that seemed to have put fear into the hearts of those around him, including Francesco. It was the Cardinal who had accepted Caterina's ideas for peace between the Empire and the Vatican and even suggested to Caterina that she make her negotiations public and to call upon Albion for the signing of the Accords. The moment the Duke of Florence was about express his outrage over the idea of humans making peace with those "hell-spawned demons" -as Cardinal di Medici colorfully phrased it- the Cardinal just walked to him and told him; "There are worse _things_ the Vatican should fear…more than 'vampires,'" and Francesco had stopped mid-rant. Whatever power the Cardinal had employed to silence the Chief Minister of Doctrine was indeed bewildering.

"What do you think about our new Cardinal?" William queried. "He certainly made quite the impression with Cardinal Francesco..." the Professor finished with a chuckle.

"Yes, indeed," Caterina laughed softly as well. "He also seems to have made quite the impression on Alec as well."

The Cardinal was indeed rather popular with the young Pope. His Holiness Alessandro XVIII looked up to him for his self-confidence, a quality the young Pope lacked and surely needed to acquire.

"He has been our ally, for the moment," William observed.

"For the moment," she agreed.

However, the subject of the Cardinal being an idol to His Holiness or their current ally wasn't Caterina's top priority at the moment. Right now, the subject concerned a man she viewed in every aspect as a brother to her, except in blood. When she first met him, at the age of fourteen, she saw him weeping over what appeared to be a casket made of metal and crystal, within she saw what appeared to be a woman with exotic skin and vivid strands of red hair. Though she was on the run from vampire assassins, Caterina couldn't help but stop and stare. She had asked him for his help and then they appeared. He told her to run and suddenly great black wings unfurled from his back. At the time, Caterina thought he was the black angel the Nia Sancta would send to those who prayed for her protection. In many ways, Caterina still felt that way.

"You seem unusually distracted this evening," Father Wordsworth concluded, "for one with such a sharp mind."

"I guess I am tired," the Cardinal admitted. "Not that it changes anything."

The death of her mother, the late Duchess of Milan, Lucrezia Sforza, was still weighed heavily upon her. The grief she felt left a hole in her heart that was still present, both emotionally and physically -the result of chronic heart disease- but she managed to keep these weaknesses hidden as much as possible. Fortunately for her, Father Václav Havel, AX agent Know Faith, protected her secrets and protected the only means of expressing her pain that she permitted herself.

"Of course, Your Grace. However, there are some issues I am currently facing because of your elder brother. Just before Abel called, Cardinal di Medici called me out of the blue for a private meeting."

Caterina raised her eyebrows as she asked: "What did he want?"

"He wanted to know _certain _information regarding the events in Albion two years ago, concerning a _certain_ agent who went MIA for the longest period of time."

There was a hint of urgency in Caterina's voice. "What did you tell him?"

"Well…" He took another slow drag and exhaled the smoke. "I only told him what was in the official reports. After all for some reason when Abel... left this world for a period of time, Brother Petros informed Francesco Abel was MIA, even though he saw first hand that he was... gone. Whatever prompted him to tell this white lie... I can only thank God that it spared us the future trouble of trying to fabricate a way in which we could convince the College of Cardinals Abel was well... resurrected. However, the way he looked at me... He knew I was hiding something…" he trailed off; for once the Professor was out of words, not from dumbfoundedness, but from nervousness.

This in turn caused Caterina to be spooked. The only one who could intimidate William that badly was Sister Kate. However, that was only when she was mad at him when his inventions failed and nearly caused damage to the _Iron Maiden II_'s radar systems. "Did you tell him...?" She feared of what he would say next.

The Professor finally recovered his wits, "No. Fortunately, I held my ground. But Caterina, if this keeps up, eventually information is going to leak, and if worse come to worst, and the clergy find out about Abel's abilites, we could be put to trial for, not only for heresy, but witchcraft. Should this happen... After all... it will mean your end as well," William concluded.

"I know. But we must make sure that the knowledge of his power is limited only to members of the AX and to Her Majesty, the Albian Queen. After all, she was one of us and, in some ways, she still is."

"Wait... has Her Majesty met the new Cardinal? I can't really remember."

"Yes. She has. I could tell he left an impression on her on that day. She wasn't afraid of him like the rest of them were, though she was slightly intimidated."

_Like I was when I first met him,_ Caterina thought to herself, saving that comment for Father Havel later.

"May I ask, Your Grace. Has Her Majesty... ever gotten over... ?" William asked, concerned. He knew what kind of feelings were forming between the silver haired priest and the former nun, while they were still in the AX. However the both of them were blinded to the point they didn't recognize their feelings for each other, though the redhead seemed to have slightly noticed. Then_ that day _happened when Abel, Leon, Petros, Paula and himself had descended into the Ghetto in an attempt to rescue Esther and the Pope. The Professor had seen her as she was caught in the snare of grief when Abel was killed and he also saw her mourning day and night for him, until called to duty to defend the city of Londinium from that ancient warship.

"No. I can tell she still hasn't fully recovered after _that_ happened, two years ago." Caterina replied, casting her eyes down to the wood grains. "Now mind she has been a wonderful ruler in my eyes, but every time I see her, there is a hint of grief and guilt in her eyes, and her smile is empty... I know."

"Yes. I saw it too, when she came here for the Accords." He waited until Caterina was looking him in the face again. "Have you ever told her that Abel is still alive?" he asked.

"No."

William eyes turned as wide as saucers, as he rounded on the Milanese woman. "Caterina, why didn't you tell the poor girl-"

Before Father Wordsworth could chide her for that, Cardinal Sforza cut him off.

"Right before Abel resigned, he ordered me specifically to not let her know. He said, he didn't want her involved the fight between him and the Contra Mundi."

"Then why is he returning to Albion if he doesn't want-?" William gasped. "Unless…"

"Unless what, William?" Caterina asked.

"I should have seen this... this was too obvious…"

"Unless what, William?" Caterina repeated with a little more force.

"Unless... the Contra Mundi has now targeted, Her Majesty the Queen."

"What?" Caterina nearly lost it.

"Think of it. Abel doesn't want Her Majesty involved in this, but if somehow the Contra Mundi found out about his feelings for her... then... she could be the perfect bait... My Lady, do you understand?"

Caterina took a, sharp, indrawn breath. "So Abel is trying to get to Her Majesty before _he_ makes _his_ move. But why now? Why didn't _he_ attack when the Accords were being signed?"

"Your Grace, what is two days from now?" William asked.

"November the Fifth (5)." Caterina's eyes then went wide. "The Queen is supposed to attend Parliament that day. Not only that, the House of Lords and the House of Commons would be present. It would be a perfect day to strike."

"But there's more. That day has historical meaning to the Albian people. Your Grace, have you ever heard the rhyme; 'Remember, remember/ The Fifth of November/ The gunpowder treason and plot/ I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason/ Should ever be forgot?'"

Cardinal Sforza understood immediately what that meant. One thousand, four hundred and sixty years ago, a man by the name of Guy Fawkes, attempted to blow up Parliament to stop the continuation of Protestantism in the name of the Church -during that time the Vatican was nothing more than a group of corrupt old men vying for power. Fortunately, the Crown Authority caught him and executed him the following year. He failed, but the Contra Mundi might not.

"If that is the reason he is returning, he is going to need backup," William concluded..

"Yes. Fortunately, the Count of Memphis is with him as well. However, I am sending Sword Dancer to him."

"Sword Dancer? Wouldn't Gunslinger be the more appropriate candidate? After all, what if he puts his own personal vendetta over the assigned mission?"

"Gunslinger is still currently on a mission. If I call him away now, Marie de Guise will become suspicious. And if Sword Dancer abandons his post, then I will bring in Gunslinger."

"Marie de Guise, the President of the Francian Rebublic? Why are you having Father Tres spy on her?"

"That isn't a concern at the moment, William. Right now, our priority is the safety of the Queen," Caterina declared.

"Hmm. I see, Your Grace. However, if circumstances warrant it, then... _for them_... he will probably activate the Crusnik, regardless of the secondary consequences. But from what I've observed... That's the kind of man he is."

Caterina could help but flash back to that day.

_Sitting at the base of a dead oak, in a star-filled night when the Vampire's Moon was glowing its dark, lurid shade, the young Caterina had finally allowed herself to cry her unshed tears for her lost family. Suddenly, the Angel had appeared before her. Blood had stained his pure, white robe, his handsome face and the silver strands of his hair._

"_Who- Who are you?" she had asked._

_The Angel smiled, his winter-like eyes glowing with compassion for the young girl. "Someone who has come to save the lives of humans. I am here to help you." He stretched out his hand, palm up, before her._

_Caterina had hesitated, only for a minute, then placed her small hand in his own._

Caterina smiled at the memory. "That's true. Abel will... protect humans." She then raised her head and addressed the Professor. "You are dismissed, Father Wordsworth."

William bowed and said "Thank you, your Grace," and left.

Caterina looked at her empty teacup. She then recalled her meeting with Abel, long before she asked for William's presence.

†

_After Sister Kate relayed her message and signed off, a blue-tinged, see-through version of Caterina'__s_ _closest friend appeared before her; however, no smile adorned his face, the visage before her was grim and sorrowful, and it showed intensely in his glacier-blue eyes._

"_Good evening, Your Eminence." he said in a tone that matched his mood._

"_It's wonderful to see you again Father Nightroad. What happened? Are you hurt? Do you have-" Before Caterina could ask her questions, Abel cut her off._

"_I cannot reveal anything at this time, Your Eminence, forgive me… but I have pressing issues at the moment. I made contact with you so I can humbly ask for my AX reinstatement."_

"_You wish to return to the AX? Why? Did you find-" he cut the Cardinal off again._

"_I wish I could tell you everything Caterina, but at this present time, I must get to Albion."_

"_Albion? Why are you-"_

"_I have no time Caterina, please, I'm begging you, as your friend. Please, there is so much at stake, it could mean the final conflict between the Terrans and the Methuselah, the Humans and Vampires. I humbly ask you, Your Eminence, Cardinal Sforza, to please reinstate my AX membership."_

_The Chief Minister of State sighed, then looked him in the eye, "Very well. I, Cardinal Caterina Sforza, Duchess of Milan, Chief Minister of the Holy Ministry of State and head of the Arcanum Cella ex Dono Dei grant formal reinstatement to Father Abel Nightroad, Codename: Crusnik."_

"_Thank you, Caterina, I'll contact you the moment I get my matters settled in Albion." and he vanished as the projector turned off with a small beep.  
_

†

Caterina set down the teacup, stood up slowly, then turned and walked to face the floor-to-ceiling windows. The Cardinal looked up at the Vampire's Moon, as the silver cresset moon darkened. The lurid shade reminded her of a certain redheaded girl who was one of her best subordinates. That the former nun, now a Queen, was one of Cardinal Sforza's closest comrades.

Caterina recalled when she first met her, when Abel had brought her to Rome from István, Hungaria. Right when she saw the novice and the priest together in this very office during Esther's formal instatement in to the AX, Caterina saw the bond between the two, before they even realized it themselves. She placed her gloved hand upon the windowpane and whispered to herself;

"I knew… even then… how precious she was to him…"

She remembered the words of the Professor and Abel's urgent request.

"Abel… in your absence… did you finally realize your feelings…?"

As soon as the thought entered into her mind, Caterina recalled exactly who was targeting Her Majesty, the Queen. If they recognize their feelings for each other, so much greater would be the danger they were in.

"_Personal affection is a luxury you can have until after all your enemies are eliminated. Until then, everyone you love is a hostage, sapping your courage and corrupting your judgment. (6)"_

Those words of one of her favorite authors of pre-Armageddon literature came back to Caterina's memory. If Abel lost Esther, no doubt he would go insane with guilt and grief, and if Esther lost Abel, once more, the hole in her empty heart would never be healed.

"My God… Please don't let anything happen to them… Please." Caterina's hand then tightened into a fist as a small bit of moisture began to creep from the corner of her closed eyes and spill over her cheek.

Next Chapter: The Streets of Old Londinium  
Avert not, thine eyes.

* * *

(1) The Manga stated the translation of this Latin phrase was the "Vatican Special Services Annex," and the Novels stated it was "Papal State Affairs Special Operations Section," but the actual phrase means "Secret Chamber in Virtue of the Gift of God."

(2) Room of the Archangel, commonly known as the Vatican's meeting hall, as seen in episodes I, III-IV, and IX-X. I got this little bit of info from the booklets that came with the TB box set and a bit of my own research, as well.

(3) This _certain_ Cardinal plays an important role in Book IV, keep your eyes open, for all those who are fans of a beautiful poison or fans of his unrevealed name, you would know who he is. ;)

(4) November the Fifth, Guy Fawkes/ Bonfire Night. As stated in the text. However, the people of Britain/ U.K. would celebrate by means of lighting bonfires, fireworks, dressing up in costumes and stuffed straw life-size dolls of Guy Fawkes that they would hang or put on display with a sign "Penny for the Guy." In short, that night is the U.K. version of America's Halloween. I looked up all this info from many resources and from one of my favorite movies: V for Vendetta, which inspired the very first chapter of this Fanfiction. ;)

(5) Quoted from Orson Scott Card's _Empire_.

A/N: A/N: Sorry this took me so long to update, but I had my hands full. Darth Tyronnius Shoelaces was in Tampa for a test and I just joined an Animation Club project at C.A.R.D. and OMG the guys there were SO nice. (Squee.) I thank all of you guys for your witty remarks and for inspiration; I'll have to find a way to fit all of you in my dedication. Oy vey!

Originally I adored the Caterina of the Anime, and I practically looked up to her strong will and her beliefs… However, all that changed when I began to read the Manga… She still held her iron will but her Machiavellian ways really irked my chain. Then in the Lady Saint Arc when she prevented Abel from saving Esther and then going behind Abel's back, lying to his face and ordering Esther to be killed and then still lying to Abel's face after the debacle was over… I lost all respect for that adaptation of her and I even called her a b-. (Which is VERY VERY rare for me.) After that I talked with **Jedi Skysinger** about which version to use… she said to stick with Anime Caterina, even _she_ didn't like that other version her. So I stuck with Anime Caterina, and if many don't like this idea feel free to complain, but DO NOT flame.

Well... I couldn't find any quotes in my resources about memories except in songs, then I decided to stick to the quote I had planned out for this FF chapter. I thought it was unprofessional if my opening quote was a song lyric. Can someone please tell me otherwise, I'd greatly appreciate that.

Note: The day I uploaded this chapter was on November the Fifth aka Bonfire/ Guy Fawkes Night. ;)

Mysteriously yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	7. VI: The Streets of Old Londinium

A/N: I was going to put the opening half of this chapter at the end of Chapter V, but I decided against it. I am SO SO Sorry for the late update, but I hope you all enjoy this. (Jedi Skysinger told me to split the original chapter up so this is what happens when one tires to make one chapter out of two. facepalms.) Thank God that I am in possession of the TB Manga and that I now got my paws on the TB boxset. (WHEEE!) - because I look to the actual material I need so I can capture the essence of TB's world of politics, especially assassination attempts. Well, fortunately for you all I brought back our favorite Catholic priest and our favorite vampire noble and I brought in a certain blonde Albian Methuselah. ^^ And there are characters in this chapter based off of my BFFs Naomi-chan and **Jedi Skysinger **(who now has her own FF. net profile.) Here it is: Chapter VI

**Chapter VI: The Streets of Old Londinium**

_I wander through each chartered street  
__Near where the chartered Thames does flow  
__And mark in every face I meet  
__Marks of weariness, marks of woe  
__- William Blake, _London

Twilight began its slow descent upon the sky, making the sunset gleam with a venomous, vermillion glow, foretelling the blood that could be spilt when the night would finally descend. He prayed that the ominous forewarning would not come to pass.

Currently sitting in a luxurious train compartment, staring out towards the horizon and its lurid radiance, Abel Nightroad couldn't help but be reminded of the vile images of death from his dark past. He would have preferred to forget these haunting memories, but the Fates(1), it seemed, enjoyed toying with him too much to ever let that happen. Normally, he didn't appreciate traveling by train. He'd complained once to Cardinal Caterina that he hated the rough ride; however, she had ordered him to take that means of transportation for Barcelona in a tone that brooked no insolence.

Barcelona. The beautiful capital of the independent Catalonia Dukedom that the neighboring Kingdom of Hispania was then most envious of. However, that beautiful jewel of the Iberian peninsula had long since been destroyed. Overnight, almost all of its inhabitants were dead and its Grande edifices were in ruins. Many claimed that an earthquake had destroyed the city, but many that night had heard the powerful strains of music from a pipe organ and the sound of iron bells. Abel knew the truth, those who perished that night were dead because of him.

It was that night when Abel had first met the dark, cryptic Magician of the Order of Rosenkreuz, Isaak Fernando von Kämpfer. Abel had had the chance and the power to take him down, but he had showed restraint at the wrong moment. Then Isaak had activated the Silent Noise, a super-weapon that used ultra sonic waves to simulate seismic ruptures. The music he had made with his instrumental weapon was a mockery of a funeral hymn to all those who met their demise that night.

He couldn't save a single one of them, with all the power he had, he couldn't save them, violating his vow to her, his fallen beloved. He had promised her that he would never take the life of another, nor allow anyone to die, in atonement for his sins.

Worse yet, he couldn't save even the precious life of his closest comrade, Sister Noélle Bor.

They had arrived in Barcelona to investigate how a government palace that had stood since pre-Armageddon days could collapse, seemingly overnight. Abel had originally planned on informing Caterina that the building had fallen due to weakness in structure and return to Rome the following evening. Noélle, on the other hand, had planned that the two of them should see the sights and enjoy the experiences Barcelona had to offer. As they were enjoying dinner together it seemed that Noélle was enjoying the wine more than her food. When she asked how he felt about her, she had asked: "Do you like me?" But it had had so many layers of meaning. They had watched a sunset similar to the one outside the compartment window on that evening over the majestic Mediterranean.

Sadly, right before they were due to return to the hostel, she had confessed to him her deepest feelings of love... for him. Him... A monster... Yes, he did like her and he had answered that he was honored to have a "special friend." Yet he couldn't bear to look at her in her heartbreak. Yet what hurt worse than that was that he knew that he couldn't really offer her anything more than his friendship. How could a woman like her love him, a monster whose hands were stained with blood, even with her empathic powers? However, it was that very rejection that cost her life.

As the city was crumbling, breaking apart at the seams all around them, he had ordered her to get out of the pharmaceutical building which she was investigating. However... she never made it out. In his rage, he had destroyed the device that had caused all this destruction and he nearly killed that accursed Magician. But, Isaak had escaped into the shadows, his taunts echoing behind him. All Abel could do was fall onto his knees and cry out with the rage and sorrow. Even in human form, his voice still held the metallic roar of the Crusnik and his tears still resembled crimson droplets of blood.

When he had returned to Rome the following day, rain was pouring out of the sky as if Heaven was crying with him. All the grief and guilt was still fresh in his mind as if the atrocity had just happened moments before.

_Oh how I wish for soothing rain  
__Oh how I wish to dream again  
__My loving heart, lost in the dark  
__For hope I'd give my everything_ (2)

He had let the ice cold droplets drench him to the core. Though this punishment wasn't enough for his sins, he would take what he could get. Then he remembered. When he had mourned Noélle at the Fountain of Neptune in the Navona Plaza (3), Esther had been there for him, trying her best to comfort him. It almost wasn't enough; he nearly resigned from the AX because of his failure. Caterina had also tried to persuade him that what happened in Barcelona wasn't his own making, but he felt that if he couldn't save all those lives, even the life of a comrade, a failure such as him should no longer be in the AX. However, Esther was still persistent and she still tried... for him. If she had given up, he probably wouldn't have come back. If it weren't for her... God only knows what shape the world would have been in.

She found him sitting in front of the chapel where he and Noélle first met. Her words came back into memory.

"_When someone dear to us is lost, the only things that can offer us comfort are memories of the better times we shared. I did the exact same thing when Bishop Laura died_..._"_

He had gotten up to leave, but then she turned to yell out:

"_Father, wait! Please! Her Eminence! Lady Caterina and the others are all in terrible danger!" _

It was then that he realized that he had to remain in the AX. No matter what grief he still felt over Noélle's death, he had to protect the humans, he couldn't let them die, he couldn't violate the oath he made to her once more.

It was later on that he learned that Caterina's uncle, the traitorous Archbishop Alfonso D'Este, had hired the Order of Rosenkreuz to create "the ultimate weapon" and had ordered them to test it on the City of Barcelona so he could destroy Rome, the Pope, Francesco and Caterina along with the city. Though the dark Magician was ordered to take out the Duchess of Milan separately from the rest, Abel saved Cardinal Sforza, but he let Isaak get away.

However, his most ever present thought was the girl that was now the only one who was left for him to love.

Even though he hated the rough ride a train had to offer, the experience still held many memories about her. He remembered that day when he brought her from István to Rome. While traveling he heard the tale of her mortal life. Abel knew exactly how she felt when she lost Bishop Laura and when her best friend was "killed" and when her world crumbled around her when the Military Police burned the only home she ever knew to the ground. He had been where Esther was that night, it was a place of darkness, rage and pain and it was where he never wanted to be again.

Abel knew what he preached. He strived to teach others who were on that terrible edge that there was hope, that there was a better place for them to be than where they were at. He even showed a child, Elise Wasmeyer, that message.

Then when she was arrested by the Military Police for the murder of Colonel Radcon, the night before, he had asked that if Esther was to be taken he would go too.

I don't understand. Why, Father?

You have to ask? Really? Well, it is because I am your friend. I will always be on your side.

When she had thought she was all alone, he had told her the words that had formed in his heart at that moment. The lapis lazuli depths that were her eyes widened and glistened with tears. He comforted her when she cried and in return he made her laugh with his jokes and gentle teasing. Her laugh was like that of a pealing silver bell, it was when she laughed, she was her true self, a happy, optimistic teenage girl.

Esther Blanchett. There were many things about her that brought Lilith back to mind. She had the exact same beautiful, ruby strands of hair and held a strong determination for justice. But, the reason why he loved her wasn't because she was Lilith, Esther was _herself_, the unique, precious star he loved. Her title in the Albian Kingdom was "Star of Hope." It suited her perfectly. She was a star that gave off the most beautiful, brilliant light, and it burned brightly with rays of hope. She was so pure, so lovely that he couldn't help but be drawn to her. Him, vile... monstrous... deplorable creature...

After Lilith's death, his promise and now Esther, his star of hope, were the only things left to tie him to this world.

"Father," the voice of the Methuselah nobleman standing across from him snapped him out of his silent revere.

"Yes, Your Excellency?" the priest asked.

"We have arrived to Londinium."

Abel looked out the compartment window and, sure enough, the sun was no longer burning the sky. In Night's war with the Day, it had finally prevailed and its black banner now cloaked the skies.

Was I thinking for that long? Abel asked himself, then stood up. "Very well," he said to Ion. "Thank you, Your Excellency."

* * *

"A leader is a dealer in hope.(3)"

She gives hope to all those around her... but I see more than just hope in her eyes. I see despair, grief and guilt.

Esther Blanchett was the daughter of Crown Prince Gilbert and Princess Victoria von Ostmark, and more importantly, the granddaughter of my closest friend, Queen Bridget II. I saw Esther's grandmother grow from childhood to adolescence, when she ascended the Throne at fifteen, yet most painfully, I saw her death. She had personally asked me to be present when she had prophesied Esther's coming to the Throne and she prophesied of the era of world peace that would come under her rule before she died. Even before Esther had ascended to the Throne, I swore to serve her, as I had served Bridget.

However, I can no longer watch from a distance as she causes pain to herself over the loss of him.

I always had a suspicion of who he was, the priest that fell under the hand of the Contra Mundi. I knew where he came from and _what_ he was. The second creation of the Genetic Manipulation Project, Lieutenant Colonel of the Red Mars Project, the God of Slaughter, the Angel of Destruction, yet above all Crusnik 02. -Unbelievable how he who had once hated humans had now chose to serve them as a priest, of all things.- However, I know of Lady Esther's feelings toward him. But we both already knew that they could never be together: he who had eternity and she who was a mortal. Their lives only lasted for a blink of an eye, not only for immortals, but for near-immortals, like me.

I decided to pay an informal visit to Her Majesty as she was readying for bed. I did not mean to eavesdrop on her conversation with her handmaidens, Sarah and Naomi, but my sensitive ears were already set in motion.

"Lady Esther... I don't know what to think. I know you loved that priest, but..." she made a sound of frustrated annoyance. "Well, all I know is if _I_ were in a graveyard on Allhallows' Eve at midnight, _I_ wouldn't trust anything that happened in there," Sarah finished with barely suppressed anger.

"Sarah, what happened _there_ was no delusion. Neither the Sybil or the message she gave me. It is thanks to her that I now _know_ that he lives."

Sarah snorted. "It has been two years Lady Esther. _Two Years_. If he was alive all this time, why didn't he return to you or even let you know that he was still alive?" she challenged.

"Um, Sarah... you need to calm down," Naomi warned.

Sarah then took deep breaths and I could already see that Naomi's magic was at work. Naomi always had an uncanny ability to calm one's raging emotions, so much so she could calm a raging bull, and Sarah was no exception.

"Lady Esther... you've got to get over him. Its not healthy," Sarah said, in a calmer tone.

"Sarah, he gave me hope when I had lost it, and now I finally found it again."

"'Hope?' You call _that_ hope? If he was _alive_ all this time, 'protecting' you by letting you think he was dead, letting you agonize and suffer and you call _that_ hope?"

Esther looked as though Sarah had slapped her. Her handmaiden's chagrin told me that she had already realized that she had overstepped her bounds as both a bondservant and a friend.

"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to suggest... I mean, what I meant was…"

"What she means," Naomi cut in smoothly, "is that you have been hurt so before in your relationship with Father Nightroad. Sarah just doesn't want to see you get hurt again."

"What she said," Sarah agreed, staring at the floor, unable to meet Her Majesty's gaze.

I took my leave of them then quickly and quietly. I decided that whatever else I might have to add to the conversation could wait for morning.

* * *

The streets of Londinium were painted with a yellowish glow from the street lights above and the lights of far-off buildings glistened the night sky. But these artificial "stars" could not outshine the blood-red hue of the Vampire's Moon, now glowing alone as its pure silver sister had vanished. At this hour of the night, the city was bustling, not only with humans, but also with beings who were considered "non human."

The Kingdom of Albion was the only Human State in which both humans and vampires, Terran and Methuselah, seemingly co-existed. There are those on both sides that naturally feared and hated one another. The humans fear all those they don't understand and it was in their history and superstitions that the vampires are not to be trusted and merely lust for blood. Then, there are the Methuselah, who have been continuously hunted down by these "humans" after the Armageddon, reinforcing their core belief that they must kill to survive, not only for the blood that the bacilli craves, but also for the right to live undisturbed.

However, Queen Esther I had shown both races of the Albian Kingdom that they could live peacefully together without killing. However, there were humans, not only amongst foreign territories, but in her home country as well that had dubbed her both a traitor and a witch. Due to the Vatican's influence in Albion, all those who would oppose Her Majesty had been silenced. Nevertheless, those who hated both the Vatican and Her Majesty would use any means necessary to get their message across. These are no mere vampire terrorists, they are humans; humans bloodier than the "vampires" they loathe and fear.

These are the ones that call themselves the Knights of Tudor. These are the ones who name themselves after one of the bloodiest rulers Albion had ever known, dating back over one thousand, five hundred, ten years of Pre-Armageddon History to "purify" their country as Queen Mary I had tried to long ago. And their poison is spreading rapidly amongst the people.

* * *

Currently walking on the pavement of a well known path he had walked so long ago, a priest and his hooded companion were only now beginning to notice the odd stares they were getting. Abel distracted by his memories of not only Esther, but his time in Londinium as a creation of the Template of the Gods Project, had not been aware of the stares. It hadn't really penetrated his brain that there could not be so few rooms available, even with a full session of Parliament coming up. Ion, however, had picked up on the hostility and had guessed the probable cause long before Abel had caught on. He let the priest know in no certain terms what he thought after the third innkeeper had advised them they were full.

After considering it a moment, Abel had to admit that the Count of Memphis was correct in its cause, but perhaps not its result. People seemed more afraid of being _around_ Ion than _of_ Ion. Like they were afraid they would be considered guilty by association or even the collateral damage in an attack on Ion. The fourth place they entered was different. The proprietor said point blank, "We don't serve their kind here." Abel had to restrain Ion from defending his honor and told the man frostily that the Vatican did not do business with "his" kind, as in narrow-minded, bigoted loud mouths who put more stock in the volume of their argument than the thought behind it, and they exited.

So it was with trepidation that they entered their next stop. A small, off-the-main-path little bed and breakfast place, a historical building tucked into the streets of the city near the Palace that had obviously been well cared for in its centuries of life.

The proprietress, who answered them appeared to be in her late thirties, early forties. Golden blonde hair, forming slight curls at the ends, fell to hang gracefully on her shoulders and saxe blue eyes twinkled at them from behind her glasses.

"Well... this is a pleasant surprise," she said, without any hint of sarcasm or disgust. "Normally we don't get guests at this time of night, especially from the Vatican or the Night Clan, but we will welcome anyone who is weary," she smiled.

"We thank you," Abel said with gratitude in fluent Albionese, though still sounding glum. "We have been searching for lodging for hours."

"Come then. I can't have my guests waiting out here in the cold like this." She opened the door for them and gestured they come inside.

"You two must be hungry. I just made supper, you might as well join me," she said after locking the door securely.

Abel's stomach growled in response. Ion smirked under his hand and said nothing.

"Apparently I've woken someone up," their host remarked. She turned to Ion, "I believe I have something for you as well, young master."

"Would it be too much to hope it came with some opium and a pinch of sugar?" the Count of Memphis queried, his Albionese thick with the Imperial accent.

"We are at your service, my young guest."

The bed and breakfast was a homey little place that naturally brought warmth to all who entered. It wasn't grand as the popular hotels that had just denied them entrance, but the priest and the nobleman were content that they had a place to stay. The lobby area was rough hewn wood beams and paneling with a huge stone hearth in the far wall. A fire roared in its center, heating various kettles and pots that hung over it. Abel about nearly hit his head on the faux candelabra chandelier as he stepped towards the large raised bar opposite the fireplace.

She led them into another room which held a large round table surrounded by eight wooden chairs. The center of the table had a symbol carved into it was a striking broadsword held in the clutches of a woman's hand rising out of an endless lake. The furniture was the same dark wood as the beams and paneling, a deep hue and obviously ancient. The proprietress returned with a silver tray and upon it were three king sized plates of fish and chips, right out of the fryer. The fish was encrusted with a generous coating of a batter that smelled heavenly and the chips were a delectable, crispy golden brown. Those were just the main dish; there was also a gigantic bowl of salad and hot out of the oven black bread. The beverages were a flagrant floral tea, along with Aqua Vitae, the Methuselah life water, held in an opaque glass filled to the brim with the thick, red liquid.

"_Va multumesc_- Many thanks," Ion smiled.

"I don't know how to say it in your tongue, but you're welcome."

She set the tray down and handed out the plates. The moment Abel received his, he began wolfing down on two pieces of fish.

The hostess stared wide-eyed as she sat down and said, "You _were_ hungry…"

Abel responded in full-mouthed gibberish at her comment.

"First take care of that food in your gob... then speak in a more recognizable human language," she chastised with smirk.

Abel swallowed loudly, then said, "I haven't eaten like this in a long time."

"Anything else you want besides food?" she asked.

"If you could please add a little bit of milk and thirteen sugars to my tea?"

"Excuse me, Father. Perhaps I heard you wrong, I thought you said you wanted thirteen sugars with your tea."

"You heard me correctly, Miss... well, I don't remember what your name is."

The proprietress smiled. "You never asked, Father. But if you want to know for future reference, my name is Ruth," she said as she loaded the porcelain cup to the brim with sugar.

The young Methuselah drained the glass. "Most excellent," he enthused. "We compliment you."

"'We?'" she cocked an eyebrow. "Have you a squirrel in your pocket then, young master?"

Abel, who had been consuming his salad with great gusto, almost choked on it.

In that awkward pause, a large feline ambled into to the room and called in a musical meow that said, "Where's mine?" in no uncertain terms.

"Wh-What is that?" Ion asked, leaning away from the brown and black furred cat who was the size of a small dog.

"It's a cat, my young guest. A rare breed in these parts. It's a Maine Coon."

"It's a what?" echoed the priest.

"Descendents of Viking cats by way of New England. A very ancient breed, indeed."

"Oh." Ion eyed it suspiciously as the cat began to strop at his boots. "It is much larger than our lady grandmother's pet," he finished with a shudder.

"_He_ just wants to say hello. He doesn't bite," she smirked, "much."

Ion started to draw his legs up into the chair.

Ruth smiled. "Truthfully, he just wants to know what's for dinner. Let me assure you, my young guest, he is far more interested in what is on the good Father's plate than in chewing on you."

She rose up from the table and the feline obligingly followed her to hearth, where he began chowing down on the contents of his bowl with great enthusiasm.

"Are you both here for the Parliament session tomorrow?" the hostess eventually asked as she returned to the table.

"In some ways, yes." Abel replied.

"Not surprising. Apparently everyone is, from the lowest commoner to the highest noble, from the natives to the foreigners. All have to see, not only Her Majesty, but also the results of the session concerning the peace treaty with the Empire, the Vatican, how to keep the Iquistion of our backs and of course how to deal with those bloody terrorists."

"Terrorists? Do you mean the Order of -" Ion nearly asked, but Ruth cut him off.

"No. I am not talking about those lunatic Germanics, I'm talking about the Knights of Tudor."

"The Knights of Tudor?" Abel repeated.

"You don't know about them? Clearly you've not been in Albion much. They started raising hell a short while after Her Majesty was crowned. Originally, the Methuselah were supposed to stay in their underground city and supply us our technology, which is manufactured throughout Europe. However, two years ago when Queen Bridget II, who looked out for the Methuselah, died, an uprising came. They demanded their freedom and the acknowledgement that they were the ones who created the technology."

She paused and looked over her guests. Father Nightroad was now concentrating on making a dessert out of the black bread and the crock of fresh strawberry jam at the center of the table. Ion, however, although nibbling a crust of the bread, still appeared intrigued.

"Have you not heard this tale?" she queried.

"Perhaps you know details that we do not?" the nobleman offered mildly.

"Perhaps. You see, that was just the beginning of Albion's sorrow. A warship under the control of the Order of Rosenkreuz nearly destroyed our beloved city, inciting the people into panic, well of course the Vatican and Albion's Military blew up the damn thing, but that isn't the point at the moment. However the true miracle that night happened when Her Majesty spoke to us, she granted us her words of wisdom and gave us hope that she could lead Albion into an era of peace and coexistence between our two races. She is a ruler who blots out all shadows with the light of her goodness and Her Majesty surely has been blessed by God's light. But there are those that don't want the light to shine upon them, for they seek and love the darkness and those are the Tudor Knights.(5)"

The priest finally looked up from his plate. "So you mean the Knights want to revert Albion back to its old ways of isolationism and slavery?" he asked.

"Precisely. The Methuselah can now walk hand in hand with humans along the streets of Londinium; however, the Knights seek to frighten them back into the Ghetto. Worse yet, humans are now becoming frightened because they believe they will either be considered guilty by association and killed or become collateral damage in an attack." She shook her head in disgust.

"So they are randomly targeting anyone associated with the Methuselah?" the Count of Memphis appeared shocked.

"I don't think anything they do is random, my young guest. Originally, they targeted just those in the Order of the Round Table..."

"Order of the Round Table?" Abel interrupted quizzedly.

"A _certain _political party who supports Her Majesty's ideals," Ruth explained, while running her fingers over the ancient wood. "It began in Albion but now it has many different branches throughout our side of Europe. But now even those who associate themselves with the Vatican or members of the clergy are targets. Just a few hours ago they blew up St. Paul's, a pre-Armageddon cathedral, killing not only their target but also bystanders, citizens of Albion... both men, women and children…" She bit her lip to keep the venomous anger from spilling out.

Ion swore an oath, in the Imperial language, that, while the exact phrase was unknown, the intent was clear.

"Bloody bastards," the innkeeper agreed. "My husband might not care much for Methuselah, but he doesn't believe they have the right to be slaughtered. He goes by the common belief of 'you don't bother them, they won't bother you.' However, the Tudor Knights target not only Catholics, which he is by the bye, but also their fellow citizens of Albion and they are willing to put innocent women and children in danger for the sake of their ideals."

"You mean to say they just are like the former Radical Faction of the Empire?" Ion asked, his eyes wide.

"Exactly. I would love to have my daughter be able to walk the streets of Albion that she loves in safety. Sadly, that cannot be so as long as the Knights continue to terrorize our people."

"Where is your daughter now?" the Earl inquired.

"She currently resides in Buckingham Palace as a handmaiden to the Queen. Her father sees her there from time to time."

"Well, your daughter appears to be a really lucky girl, serving Her Majesty everyday. You must be proud."

"Indeed I am. However... my husband thinks she should be serving in the Military under Colonel Spencer." Their hostess shrugged. "But, that's what she wishes above anything else, so I accept that."

A clock chimed in the background.

"Oh dear, is it that late already? Well... if you are finished with your meal, would you like me to show you two to your rooms?"

Next Chapter: The Tudor Knights  
Avert not, thine eyes.

(1) The Fates, were three goddesses of Greek Mythology, who determined the length and course of every life, including the gods. Clotho spun out the thread of destiny; Lachesis measured it to the right length; and Artopos snipped it with her scissors. If one watched Episode XIV, Dietrich himself mentioned them with the quote: "The Fates can play cruel little tricks like that sometimes, can't they?" Considering how Abel, a mortal, has such a long "thread," I bet they can't help but toy with him. :P

(2) Quoted from Nightwish's song, "Nemo." This is an ode to Sith Lady **Darth Stitch's **story "All I Wish Is To Dream Again" and to **Dr. Raven Production's **TB video "The Mark of My Sins" on YouTube. I had to make my own homage to that vid, the song wonderfully describes Abel's thoughts and feelings IMHO. It's a really good video, you all should check it out.

(3) Fountain of Neptune, Navona Plaza. It was first created in 1574 (minus the sculptures) by Giacomo Della Porta, who also designed the Moor Fountain, and the project was sponsored by Pope Gregory XIII. The fountain was finally completed in 1878 by Antonio Della Bitta and Gregorio Zappalà. It is still in Rome to this day and many tourists still go to that spot for the sculptural architecture.

(4) Quoted by Napoleon Bonaparte, the French conqueror.

(5) Indirect reference to John 3: 19-21 the original quote was: "... God's light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed. But those who do what is right come to the light so others can see that they are doing what God wants." NLT version.

A/N: The PLOT thickens! (evil laugh) I had an inkling that you guys wanted a longer chapter... so you got it! I'm sorry I haven't updated in like forever... but this is what happens when one doesn't finish their reports earlier. (facepalms.)

Kudos points go to the one who can spot the Edgar Allen Poe and the _Star Wars _references (well... the Star Wars one IS kinda obvious.)

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	8. VII: The Tudor Knights

A/N: This chapter was going to be the second half of Ch VI with the same name, but **Jedi Skysinger **said to break it up and divide it into two. As any good author listens to their editor, I obliged. This was my first time writing action shots, however, the reason for the late update is because they are the hardest for me. There is another reason why I didn't update recently was because I spent a whole month on a piece of artwork that needed to be done before March, so I spent January finishing it. I'm SO SO SO Sorry. (WAH!) I also added my adorable little boy, Oliver Tomaliver. (Squee) Well here it is: Chapter VII.

**Chapter VII: The Tudor Knights**

_Come seeling night,  
__Scarf up the eye of pitiful day,  
__And with thy bloody and invisible hand  
__Cancel and tear to pieces that bond  
__Which keeps me pale! _...  
_Good things of day begin to drop and drowse,  
__Whiles night's black agents to their prays do rouse._

- _William Shakespeare_, Macbeth Act III, Scene II

"I hope you and the good Father will enjoy your stay here for the night," the hostess told her guests, holding a lit candelabra in one hand as she led them through the hallway of the second floor of the bed and breakfast.

"It is nice that we have a quiet place to stay," Ion smiled.

"Why, thank you, good sir," she returned the smile, then stopped at a mahogany door with a crystallized doorknob. "This is the place where you shall be staying for tonight, and, yes, the windows are tinted against the sun's ultraviolet rays. When I say my rooms are made for everyone, I mean _everyone_."

Ion's smile became much warmer. Even though in appearance Ruth was much older, the Count couldn't help but be reminded of the first Outer World Terran that befriended him, who was now the sovereign and liege over this woman. They both believed that his people, the Methuselah, and their people, the Terrans, were equal. If only more Outer World Terrans could be like them.

Ruth opened the door and suddenly a grey streak zoomed out from the room. Ion's heightened senses revealed that the streak was a living animal, but he then mistook it for entirely opposite species.

"Was that a rat?" Ion yelled.

Ruth smirked, "No, good sir, that was the 'little grey ghost,' my other cat."

"First, you have a cat the size of a lion cub, now you have a cat the size of a rat?"

"You're not the first one who had called him that. My husband mistook him for a rat as well. That was Oliver Grey Catt. You've already met Lord Flufferton Q. Kitty III."

"What's next?" Ion muttered to himself. "An alien in a cat suit?"

"That would have been Lady Margaret Thatchpaw, my sister's late cat," Ruth smiled.

"You and my lady grandmother would get along rather well," Ion bowed his head and put his hand over his eyes, shaking his head.

Father Nightroad wisely chose to stay of the exchange. After they left Ion in his room, the priest and the hostess continued without further comment to Abel's room. It was small, but well appointed and comfortable. Despite this, he found that he could not keep his eyes from turning to the view of Buckingham Palace outside his window.

"It's been so long since I'd been here," Abel whispered to himself.

"How long?" Ruth asked.

He still looked to the Albian Royal Palace when he made his reply; "Too long."

"I see. Well, I hope you enjoy your stay. Good night."

He didn't even acknowledge the woman as she closed the door, a sly smile on her face. There was only one woman on his mind at that point, the same one who had been on his mind the last two years and he was finally going to do something about it.

* * *

When the snow began to fall that night, the snowflakes resembled white diamonds against the velvet black of darkness. One stray snowflake landed in the open palm of a pale, small hand.

Ion Fortuna had finally after the course of two years laid his eyes upon the frozen beauty the Outer World Terrans called "snow." Living in the Empire within the Lapis Lazuli Prete - which shielded the Methuselah from the onslaught of the sun's ultraviolet rays- along with a climate controlled environment, he had never seen this cold wonder. But as soon as that thought entered into his mind, sorrow began to take its place. What he wanted to do more than anything was to show his lost Tovaråş, his brother, Radu, this lovely whiteness. However, that wish could never be. Radu was dead. Ion wanted to cry at that, but his pride held back the tears. No respectable _Boyar_ of the Tzara Methuselute would cry in the presence of Outer World Terrans.

What Ion also wanted to do more than anything was to see Esther again. She was the first Terran of the Outer World he had befriended. She was the one to teach him that not all Terrans of the Outer World were fanatic barbarians. More importantly, she had told him that she was on his side when Radu had betrayed him. Afterwards, Ion realized that he loved Esther and he wished that she could return that love. However, he knew that her heart belonged to someone else and that someone was the priest whom he had been traveling with for over two years. Considering that she chose to go back to Rome with the Father instead of staying in the Empire with him.

Ion recalled when he had finally asked Esther if she wanted to stay in the Empire with him. He had tried asking her before, but Abel -who was originally a featherbrain beyond belief- had fallen into his grandmother's garden lake before the words could come out right. He finally found the chance to ask again after the assassination attempt against his Empress had been foiled.

She had found him staring out at the sea, his arms were wrapped around his knees as he looked at the filtered sunset. He had said he would become stronger and she had said "Ask me then." She was kind. Esther hadn't said, "no," or "never," or worse yet, giggled dismissively. That's one of the reasons he had found himself in love with her because of her kindness. But, it was both his love for her and her kindness that caused him to be more considerate of her and her feelings than of his. He knew she loved the priest and not him and even though he hoped that one day she might some day find feelings for him, he loved her enough to respect her choice. It was obvious that Abel felt the same way about her, but for whatever reason, neither of them seemed capable of acting on it. Whatever that bizarre woman -Sybil or Sybilla? ...whatever her name was- had said to him, it was enough to send the pair of them flying toward Albion. Perhaps if Abel truly loved Esther Blanchett as much as Ion thought he did, he would finally find his voice this time.

Approaching footsteps interrupted the Count's thoughts. Coming across his sharp view was a dark figure. He couldn't make out the face, due to the scarf covering his visage, but from the way the man was creeping around, the Methuselah could tell he was a Terran. The shadow was carrying what appeared to be strings of firecrackers. Suddenly, a burning smell came across his heightened senses. He recognized the scent immediately: C4 and Napalm. The Order of Rosenkreuz had used those very substances in an attempt to kill, not only his grandmother... but also his liege, Augusta Vradica! This man... was he an Order member or a member of those Knights? If so, then he should kill him! Suddenly, the man turned, almost as if he was hearing his thoughts, and ran with a speed that could match a cheetah... but not a Methuselah!

Ion jumped over the balcony and landed gracefully on the cement. Suddenly, another thought entered into his mind. If he killed a Terran here, without full proof, it could mean a war.

Maybe... he thought, maybe it might be better if I follow him, and if he's one of them... He's mine.

The Count of Memphis kept his distance as he followed the figure around the alleyways behind the inn. The man was clearly looking for something, but Ion was not sure what just yet. The shadow turned the corner out of his sight, but when the young Methuselah came around, he was gone. Ion puzzled momentarily, then shot to the other side of the building. Not in the adjacent alley either? He paced back toward the rear of the inn, layer upon layer of renovation and upgrades upon the original stone. There! A disturbance at the base of the wall that was fresh. Placing his long, thin fingers on the ancient stones, Ion pressed here and there, looking for a mechanism or a trigger to open the passage his quarry had obviously vanished into.

The wall gave and then split in two halves as a dark passageway opened under Ion's palm, revealing where the shadow vanished. The Count took a quick sniff to make certain he caught his quarry's scent before he descended into the Underground.

Laid out before him seemed to be endless stairs made of black steel. Next to them was sign, sprayed on the wall in red paint was a Latin phrase describing the descent into the Hell as being easy (1). He didn't really care where he was at the moment. All that was on his mind was the human scent that was leading him into these dark depths.

"These stairs seem to gone on, and on, and on... forever." he thought. That was until Ion found a light at the end of the stairway. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, the area divided into tunnels. There were seemingly endless rows of lights down each of the tunnels; however, only one tunnel was lit, indicating that his prey had gone that direction. The walls were covered in cables, metal and other items of lost technologies. The Count could only guess that these tunnels were the underground Ghettos that Ruth had told him about. Ion picked up the scent again as he journeyed down the lit tunnel which led him to an elevator, or what had been an elevator. It was wrecked. The doors seemed to have been blasted open by some unknown force and the compartment had a human-sized hole in the ceiling.

"What's this? How could someone... Get back on task and find that Terran before he kills someone," Ion then whispered to himself.

Where the young Methuselah picked up the scent again it led him to a blank wall. He felt around here and there until he found a rectangular palm identification scanner and the doors slid open. There before him were black steel bars along the side of the wall. Ion scurried up them like a squirrel climbing up a tree until he nearly hit his head on a manhole cover. With his superior strength, the Methuselah boy gripped at the metal as if it were paper and threw it off.

When he emerged, Ion found himself gazing out at the gates of the most grandiose building in Albian history: the Houses of Parliament, the central government of Albion. Parliament was a means of balancing the power of the monarchy, the oligarchy and the democracy of the Nation. The only time the rule of Parliament was ever threatened was by the infamous King Charles I, who tired to become the absolute ruler of Albion, before he could accomplish that, he lost his head for making the effort.

Before the gates was the shadow the Earl had been following, greeting him were two other men adorned in trench coats with scarves covering their noses to their necks. Each of the men bore a pin with an emblem of a sword slicing through a red and white rose and the Albian Crown. The shadow gave them the C4 and the napalm packs.

"Hurry up! We don't have much time! Load these with the rest," the shadow ordered them.

The two obeyed and disappeared into the darkened building. From the depths came forth another man who reminded Ion of Lord Baibars, chief of the Imperial Guard. They both had a strikingly similar build; however, the man who had emerged from the shadows was a head or two shorter than the black giant and the man's sickly pale skin was slightly wrinkled. His grey eyes were as cold as the frost that surrounded them and small wisps of gray hair clung to the sides of his mostly bald head. He too, bore the same crest as the mysterious shadow before him.

"Mr. Creedy," the shadow greeted the man and bowed his head.

"I'm quite surprised you managed to get by Mary Spencer and those bloody vampires. Well done, Mr. Stone."

The shadow continued to bow his head. Mr. Creedy continued, "You have also gained the trust of that traitorous witch. Very well done, indeed. This will allow us to deliver the very supplies necessary to end her right to her doorstep."

"'Tis safer to be that which we destroy/ Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy (2), Lord Chief of Justice," The cloaked figure said as he took off his makeshift cowl and revealed himself to be the Earl of Leicester Lewis Stone, a Royal Privy Councilor. Instead of the formal blue suit, his attire consisted of a buttoned up black trench coat and thick cotton pants with black leather shoes. Adorning his coat was medallion bearing the bloodied crest, revealing his true position to the shadows, a traitor to the Albian Royal House.

"Save your Shakespeare another time, Mr. Stone. We have a country to save," another man replied from the darkness of the night that surrounded him. The man seemed to detach from the very shadows themselves. He was garbed from head to toe in black leather and Yorkshire wool. Like his companions, his skin was a pale, sallow color and bore a more ornate crest that held a knight's armored head. The Methuselah boy mused briefly that these men seemed to spent less time in the sunlight than the Methuselah themselves. Of course, such treasonous dogs, he reasoned, would not be doing such work as theirs in the light of day.

Apart from having the same unhealthy skin color, this new man and Mr. Creedy looked nothing alike. Not only was he a head shorter than Creedy, but the newcomer had a untidy shock of auburn hair and an equally disorderly reddish-brown goatee to match. His brown eyes were sharp and appeared to miss nothing. They were by far the liveliest feature in his decidedly wizened face.

"Her Majesty has gone too far, letting those god forsaken leeches walk alongside us when in truth we are the superior race. It is we who are the true humans. I personally believe they should be allowed to continue to live, albeit in their dark and dank Ghetto that seems to be more fitting for them. That witch goes on about how those blood sucking monsters are equal to us and are 'human,'" he spat out the word, "just like us, when in truth they are nothing more than mere parasites that will eventually turn on us when we show weakness."

"Well said, Lord Chancellor."

The three other men who had disappeared into Parliament had come out again to join with the darkness of the Night. All three of them were now unmasked, revealing more pale faces: a youthful man with cleanly cut blonde hair and sickly green eyes, the other two with cropped dark hair. The only difference between the two was that one had a much heavier face and closely cropped black hair, the other thinner with disorderly brown hair.

"Thank you, Mr. Dascomb," Adam Sutler, the Lord High Chancellor of Albion, Speaker for the House of Lords in Parliament addressed the youth. "I personally think that she has our country under a spell and everyone is flocking to her as if she were Queen Elizabeth herself. But I see through her lies. Elizabeth I would never have tolerated the Catholic Church inhabiting these lands and, if there had been vampires in that era, she would've burned them all. If we remove that witch, her spell will be broken and then the people will realize that the vampires should return to their Ghetto and those religious fanatics should be removed for good."

"And if the vampires or the fanatics refuse, Lord Chancellor?"

"Wipe them out... all of them," Sutler leered.

The roar of a beast in rage filled the night air.

* * *

**Earlier**

How long had he been staring at her?

A minute? An hour? Or perhaps eternity?

After leaving the bed and breakfast, his feet, of their own volition, began to walk toward the Palace the moment his eyes fell upon the ancient structure.

How many guards did he pass by before he reached his destination? How many walls that barred him from her did he just simply stride over as if they were merely matchboxes? How many vines did he pull upon in order to reach her balcony?

He didn't care, all that existed for him now was the star who bound him to this world.

He dared not enter her chambers for, as a man marked as he was with his sins, he didn't deserve to be graced by the light she wielded. The only thing baring him from her now was the wall of glass that separated her from the Night and the cold. A place where he thought he belonged to continue the fight that bound him for eternity.

As he looked upon her, he saw that she was still the same, while at the same time, slightly different. Oh, how she has grown up since the last time he saw her. Her vibrant strands of scarlet were still cropped short, but her bangs no longer hung down at her chin line but fell in beautiful waves past her shoulders. Her cheeks were slightly thinner, devoid now of her teenage curves. Her skin was still the creamy, supple tone that he so fondly remembered. If only he could look upon the beautiful lapis lazuli orbs that were her eyes.

He watched her as she slept, watched the rise and fall of her chest with each breath she took, heard the soft sound of her breath with his sensitive ears. It was the only thing he allowed himself.

He longed to smell the scent of her breath and her hair, to feel the softness of her skin and taste the sweet flavor of her lips.

He was at war with himself. Again. How many times in the last two years had he wanted to come here. To see her, to reveal to her that he was still alive. But every time he had talked himself out of it. Reasoned that she was better off without him. Told himself that he was selfish to want to impose himself on her life. If he was honest with himself, he was afraid. Afraid that after all this time had passed that she would have moved on, that she had gotten over him and been able to live a life free of the dangers of associating with him, free of the danger of _him_...

It all seemed a waste now. He had longed to see her and kept away to keep her safe and now, according to this mysterious Sybil, it had all been in vain.

She then turned over to her side, as if she knew he was there. Her lips suddenly shaping and speaking a sound that pulled at his heartstrings.

"Abel." she whispered, restlessly. "Come back... don't go... please."

All he could do was stand there, frozen. Did she dream about him? Does she... does she... does she feel the same way about him? If so... what should he do?

He looked up, trying to clear his head, suddenly he began to notice that white lace and diamonds danced across the blackness of the night.

How ironic that a cold creature such as him should be the one to witness the first snowfall of winter, when he had returned to the one who brought him warmth.

_How can you leave her now? _The wind asked him, the voice reminding him of his fallen beloved.

Abel closed his eyes. He could see her before him now. Her hair the exact vibrant stands of scarlet like Esther's, her coffee-cream, exotic skin, her golden eyes shining back at him like rays of the morning sun.

"She... doesn't deserve me... I am... a monster…" he whispered

_"You are not a monster, if you were, you wouldn't have repented and would still be walking on that path of destruction."_

"But... I let _him_ kill you…"

_"Dilly-dally, shilly-shally, isn't it time you did the forgiving, Abel? I never blamed you, not once. You've changed that's all that matters."_

"How can I take a chance on letting _him_ kill her?"

_"How can you take a chance on never telling her how you feel when you know how she feels?"_

"How can she feel that way? She's a Terran. Their lives are but a moment, a blink of an eye…"

_"All the more reason not to waste another moment. She has so few…"_

Abel's eyes opened at that. Idiot, he cursed himself, so few moments with her and yet here he was, mooning outside her window like the lovesick vampire in that ancient Pre-Armageddon novel that Seth adored. So much for his self-righteous comments to her about the character's self-imposed suffering and stupidity regarding how that character had dealt with his lot in life and his love for a human. Had he, featherbrain that he was, not done the same? No, worse! He had stayed away from Esther for two whole years, letting her think him dead the entire time, because he thought himself unworthy of her, trying to keep Esther free from danger when the only way to protect was to be with her...

_"DAMN YOU!"_

Abel then caught the smell of fresh blood, human blood. _"How dare you threaten Queen Esther! Unforgivable, we absolutely won't forgive you! All of you!" _a voice echoed in the night, a voice that only Abel's supersensitive hearing would be able to pick out. For the briefest of seconds, Abel was caught between his mental musing and that voice until it penetrated his brain the voice was that of his companion. It took another millisecond to register what Ion had said.

"Nanomachines: Crusnik 02. Power output to 40%. Activate!"

And only a few black feathers, drifting lazily in the wind outside her window, acknowledged that he had been there at all.

* * *

Ion shot out of the shadows. His rage at Sutler's belittlement of his people had been indeed blood-boiling, but further he could not let this man who was going to kill his closest friend draw one more poisonous breath. "DAMN YOU!"

The Lord Chancellor heard the cry of rage, but didn't see his collaborator in the crime collapse until it was too late. A blade of titanium shot through the shoulder blade of the one named Mr. Dascomb, fresh blood poured from the open wound like a fountain. From behind his fallen companion appeared a shadow in a white cloak and in its hand was a short scimitar stained with crimson streams. From under the hood, he could see the demonic rage in the young boy's coppery eyes, his upturned lips sprouting elongated fangs.

One word entered into his head immediately: "Vampire!"

The boy brandished his sword at the Lord Chancellor and raged: "How dare you threaten Queen Esther! Unforgivable, we absolutely won't forgive you! All of you!"

The Methuselah youth seemingly vanished, then appeared once more, this time above Sutler. His sword was raised to strike the blow that would bring the swift wings of death to his opponent. However, death didn't claim Sutler and the sound of screaming metal filled the night.

Mr. Creedy stood in front of Sutler, his most preferred weapon, the Velvet Nightmare, outstretched before him, grinding into the scimitar that the vampire wielded.

The Velvet Nightmare was a Craft of Albion Works, a pride of their creation. It was a based off of the Roman M13 Jericho automatic handgun and held a clip of 516 maxima rounds. Along the edge of the muzzle was a silver-titanium blade, which could be wielded like a sword in hand-to-hand combat. Only a certain few could handle a weapon as grand as this, for not only did one have to master marksmanship, but also swordsmanship in order to tame this metallic monster. Mr. Creedy had been anxious to use this beast against a vampire to see how long those humanoids would last against it. Fortune seemed to have smiled upon him for it had brought him the necessary combatant to use it on.

Ion jumped back and flipped in the air simultaneously, so fast that the human eye couldn't catch his movements. One moment he was in mid-air his sword against the Velvet Nightmare, next he was crouched on the ground, like a cat landing gracefully on all fours after falling from a great height.

Ion growled at his armed opponent and the Lord Chancellor. He quickly inspected his sword, for the last time he performed such as move his blade had been cut in half. Fortunately, he wasn't against the Chief of the Yeniçeri, Lord Baibars, nor against his seven bladed sword "He Who Breaks Spinal Cords," and the scimitar was intact. Ion would have killed the both of them, but then the teachings of his liege, Augusta Vradica, reminded him that killing these men would meant a conflict with the Kingdom of Albion and the Empire.

Lewis Stone and two others, Mr. Ethridge and Mr. Heyer, nearly drew their own weapons, but Mr. Creedy raised one black gloved hand.

"Don't interfere. If any of you try to get in my way, I'll kill you, too. This vampire is mine. I want to see how fast the Velvet Nightmare can cut down this little monster," Creedy sneered.

"Cut us down?" Ion shrieked. Raising his sword, he declared hotly, "We are the Count of Memphis! You speak falsely, brute!"

Before Creedy's eyes, the boy reappeared in a flash only fifteen feet away, grasping his naked sword, still stained with the blood of a human. At the same time, Mr. Creedy swung down his weapon causing a peculiar sound.

Had the Lord Chief of Justice, the most hardened man in all of Albion, misjudged the distance of his enemy? No it couldn't be so, but the weapon hit the ground and completely missed the Methuselah nobleman, who waited, with unwavering steadiness, for the peculiar weapon to pass by him before thrusting his blade at his attacker. A second later, it was Ion who was propelled in the opposite direction by the odd armament. His entire body was forced backwards by a force he never saw coming. Had Ion not been a Methuselah, he would've fallen and cracked open his skull. Thankfully his abilities allowed him to flex his body and land without a scratch.

A shot fired the moment Ion had landed on the concrete and then two more.

He looked down and saw three holes in his cloak and black attire. A reddish-black substance was seeping from the holes. Mr. Creedy had shot him with sliver bullets. Suddenly, Ion felt as if his body was caught in an inferno. He fell back, writhing in pain.

Mr. Creedy cracked a smirk at the scene. Not only was his Velvet Nightmare a wondrous weapon against vampires, but how that vampire, a being of superior strength and speed, had crumbled at the hands of a pseudo-human delighted him. He watched in complete amusement as the vampire withered in the searing pain and waited until it had passed out from silver poisoning.

"Disgusting leech, that'll show them who's the superior race. After all, they are nothing more than transient guests(3); they will die out eventually." He then addressed his entourage. "Well, what are you waiting for? Bind him and search him!"

Altogether the Knights pulled out silver shackles and chains and came upon the unfortunate Methuselah like the tide descending.

"Thank you Mr. Creedy. You have apprehended the assassin who has taken the life of Her Majesty. We were too late to save her, but we will put her murderer to justice," Adam Sutler said quietly to his comrade with a tone akin to admiration for the man had just saved his life from a baleful death at the hands of a vampire.

"This is twice now I had saved your life. My debt to you has been overpaid now," Creedy whispered, anxious should the others not hear this.

"I knew there was a reason to keep you alive after I found you on the streets. After this, you will be handsomely rewarded, for your powers can bring even a vampire to its knees."

"Just be certain my abilities aren't found out by the others. I don't want the Knights to be given a poorer image, not with a 'warlock' in the midst of pure-bread humans."

"Well lookie, 'ere!" Mr. Heyer cried out in pleasure.

"What is it?" Sutler asked.

"It's a blooming Empire insignia!" He pointed to Ion's shoulder and sure enough, the crest of the Empire, a sapphire crescent moon, with a smaller ruby full moon on the inside, surrounded by four jade spires, symbolizing the four towers of the Celestial Imperial Palace, the _Yuldluz Saray_, adorned the black cotton.

"Th' imperial ensign, which full high advanc'd... shone like a meteor, streaming to the wind.(4)" Stone whispered to himself.

The reason the moon was the symbol of the Tzara Methuselute was because their belief that the Sun had hated them so much that the Moon had in turn took them under her silvery wings and protected them as her children. The Empress herself was like the Moon, for she loved the Methuselah and had taken them from the lands of those who could walk under the sun into the lands that would become the Empire. Because of the similarities between the Empress and the Moon, the Methuselah had taken its crescent from for their symbol, of not only their Empire, but also their Jade Empress. The red moon was said to have been the Methuselah's first home before they had come to this world, though their memories of living on that moon have been long forgotten. Little did the Methuselah know that in Pre-Armageddon history another people, known then as the Turks, had lived in their Empire and used that very symbol in their religion, and they too, were hunted by the Vatican for paganism.

"Not only do we catch a leech, 'e's a' _Imperial_ leech. Bloomin' perfect! So much for t'eir Empress' desires to mike peace wit' us!"

"I had a suspicion he was one of those kind of vampires. What was it that he called himself...?" Mr. Creedy asked, trailing off.

"The Count of Memphis," Mr. Ethridge finished for him. "Memphis is a city of the Empire that just so happens to fall under the nobles of Fortuna, an influential noble house that rules over the Moldova territory. If this who I think it is... then he must be not only the grandson of the Duchess of Moldova, the Prime Minister of the Empire, but also the First Imperial Envoy to the Vatican."

This was indeed a horrifying scenario for those who desired peace with the Empire. If a Methuselah noble of the Empire, not just any noble, the first Imperial Envoy, had killed the Queen of Albion, not only would the Empire be held responsible for her death, but their peace treaty with the Vatican and Albion would be in flames. Worse yet the great war, which had been waiting to deliver judgment unto the world once more, would come to pass.

"Excellent!" Sutler clapped his hands together and his eyes were bright with a thirst for power, almost resembling the look of a vampire in bloodlust. "Alright, men, finish setting the stage of Her Majesty's demise and once we're done here, bring the leech with us!"

"To lust for power and to seize it... that is a vampire's true nature," a voice, whispered and it didn't belong to any of the Knights.

A shot fired.

It took a moment for Sutler to realize that the bullet had just barely grazed across his brow. He put his hand to his temple and sure enough, a small trickle of blood stained his worn hands.

"WHAT? Who dares-"

A figure began to form from under the flurries of snow, his black robes and bound silver hair caught in the breeze. From under the streetlight, a golden gunmetal crucifix was visible on his tall frame and his blood-tinted eyes, which glared so fiercely back at the human traitors from under silver-rimmed glass, could have burned the frost that surrounded them. His right arm was extended and he held in his clutch a smoking M651 Craft of Albion Works revolver.

"I dare," he said as he pushed the spectacles back over the bridge of his nose with is middle finger.

Sutler made a sound of disgust. "Not only do we have vampires arriving to this party, apparently the Vatican has decided to come in uninvited. Who in the bloody hell do you think you are, ordering us around like that, hmm?"

"I am an AX enforcement officer for the Vatican's Ministry of Holy Affairs, Father Abel Nightroad."

The name alone brought out something the Lord Chancellor had only truly felt twice before: fear. Father Abel Nightroad was a priest who had once served in the Vixen of Milan's secret service agency; however, from what Sutler knew of him, he was supposedly rotting away in a cemetery outside of Londinium. Nightroad was said to have been killed by the Contra Mundi, the Enemy of the World himself. If all of that was true, then why is this man currently standing before him?

"WHAT? You can't be-? They said you were DEAD! How are you-?" Sutler stammered.

"_Et vivus et fui mortuus et ecce sum vivens in saecula saeculorum_, (5) Amen. In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, I arrest you and your associates for the crimes of terrorism, sedition and attempted assassination against Queen Esther," he finished through clenched teeth. His voice, like ice, was raised over the howling wind. "For the sakes of your men and for myself, I urge you to let the Methuselah go and surrender immead-"

"ENOUGH!" Sutler threw up his hands in a huff and rounded on Creedy. "This is why I hate these Vatican dogs! They talk too much!"

Mr. Creedy smiled at the Lord Chancellor and then at his opponent. "This will be interesting, dueling a man such as yourself, or should I be saying, a corpse such as yourself? I've heard rumors about you, Nightroad, and now I will test them out for myself."

"I don't wish to do this, but apparently you will leave me with no other choice."

"Then you leave us with no other choice!" Mr. Ethridge screamed.

A flash burst and the area was painted in smoke. Even with his heightened senses, the priest had a hard time seeing through this. A shot fired and Abel felt a horrible sting in in left shoulder.

The shadow of the Chief of Justice appeared, his blade aiming for the priest's head. The average human would have been dead before they realized it; however, before the blade met its target, Abel's fingers closed around the armament in a firm vice.

The priest threw the Velvet Nightmare and Creedy to the side, like he was nothing more than moth being pushed aside by the breeze. Creedy had a hard time catching himself and nearly hit the wall. When the Chief of Justice looked up he saw the bullet seep out of the hole in the Vatican dog's cassock and fell to the ground. Flesh then formed over the hole leaving no trace of blood.

"What the-? How did you-?" Creedy gasped.

"You're a warlock, aren't you?" A raspy voice asked the Chief of Justice. "You can reach speeds others cannot attain, and your strength is beyond that of the average humans, due to genetic manipulation. How did such 'pure humans' dare to take in a man such as yourself?"

Creedy set a hard leer. "Sutler is a great man. He cannot stand to vampires. We agree that they are the strongest and filthiest beings to ever walk this Earth. They have no right to exist here, and deep down in their hearts, they know it, too. Because this world exists by the belief of 'survival of the fittest,' and 'might makes right,' they believe that they can wipe us out. But before they do, we must destroy them all, before they destroy us. I learned that lesson well in the Londinium streets. When Sutler was about to meet his death by unnatural means at the hands of a vampire. I would not stand by as this unrightful leech took the life of a powerful man. I saved him, and in return, I am granted power. As I kill those leeches in the name of the Tudor Rose, which I am happy to do, I keep my position in the Albian Court."

"So you go by the excuse of a beaten dog?" The voice wasn't the rasp, the Chief of Justice heard earlier.

"'Beaten dog?'" Creedy's eyes picked up as he asked in mockery. "Priest, you dared to call the Chief of Justice, I, Lord Seeley Creedy, a beaten dog?"

"Yes, Chief of Justice- you're a pathetic beaten dog, I knew some such as you in the Inquisitorial Department," Abel insisted. "I too, am no exception. I viewed the world with despair and mocked the ideals of those I loved. Actually, I hated them-but when I think about it now, I was a beaten dog who was afraid of fighting reality. I was a pathetic beaten dog who mocked everything. I was exactly like you are now." Abel looked as though he were not here, in a time far from now. His voice was filled with deep regret and sorrow, while at the same time yearning for beloved memories.

Abel was about to speak again, but Creedy cut him off. "Nice sermon, save it for mass. Do you not know your own situation?" The Chief of Justice laughed lightly but held his weapon in an iron grip and swung the blade ferociously.

Abel did his best to dodge him as Creedy disappeared and reappeared, attempting to slice his limbs off. The blade made contact with the flesh of his shoulder, then his right arm which forced Abel to drop his revolver, then his side and his left leg.

"Nice to tell me that I'm a beaten dog, when you're beaten yourself," Creedy sneered as Abel collapsed from the pain. "Now hold still for a few minutes while I impale your heart, the way your Inquisitors kill their prey. How ironic that you should die like a leech." He raised his gun-sword, ready to dive it deep into the priest's chest.

"I am not worthy to be killed…" The priest whispered.

Creedy stopped his weapon, and asked, "What makes you say so?"

"I died once. I have no intention on doing so again." Abel then chanted the spell that brought the horrid monsters that plagued his soul into hyper-action: "Nanomachines: Crusnik 02. Power output to 40% Activate!"

Creedy, for the first time, felt the rush of fear at the creature before him.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU?"

A pale being stood before him, the wounds that he had inflicted vanished like they were never there. Each strand of silver hair took a life of its own and rose up, forming a diadem upon the creature's brow. His blackish-blue lips revealed a set of fangs, sharper than a vampire's. Staring back at the Chief of Justice were blood shaded eyes.

"So the rumors I heard were true. The Vixen of Milan _did_ keep a monster to combat vampires. So much for the Vatican's 'pious purity,' they are more hypocritical than I thought," Creedy huffed.

Abel glared at the warlock and replied with a metalic voice, **"The Vatican is made up of humans, just like us, Lord Chief of Justice. So too are the 'leeches' you hunt. But you not only hunt vampires, you hunt innocent civilians as well. You take delight in killing, don't you?"**

"Those lives were a means to an end. If we are to achieve purity, then all those who question it as well as the leeches must die!" Creedy unloaded his weapon at the vampire-like monster; however, the bullets never reached their target.

Black wings outstretched from the priest's back, shielding him from the onslaught of the Velvet Nightmare. **"I didn't want to kill you, but you leave me no choice."**

"W-What?" Creedy questioned as backed up to the wall, like an animal cowering at the sight of a predator. He dropped the Velvet Nightmare, realizing, albeit too late, that it was useless against this powerful being. As he had stated, the strong live as they leave the weak in the dust and he now was going to die by something stronger than a vampire or himself, though in that moment he failed to appreciate the irony.

**"You have threatened someone dear to me, someone who binds me to this world. If I lose her, I lose my reason to exist," **Abel tried to cling onto his sanity, but it slowly began to slip through his fingers as anger excited the nanomachines rushing through his blood. 

**"Now we shall rid that threat forever, with our own hands, if we must," **the Crusnik declared. In its clutches appeared a blood-red, distorted scythe and he raised it.

A whipping winter wind brought Seeley Creedy to his demise.

**"_Culpa perennis erit oratio nomine. In pace requiescat._****(6)" **was the Lord Chief of Justice's sole epitaph.(7)

* * *

Daylight then began to shine an unusual blood-red hue. Abel looked upon the bloodied sight. Creedy's body lay on the ground in a particularly odd fashion. One could not mistaken him for sleeping even excluding the bloody hole in his chest and the startled look on his dead face and the astonishment in his sightless eyes. The Lord Chief of Justice did not have to die, especially by his own blood-stained hands, even though Creedy had given himself over to evil. The smoke had cleared while Abel had been battling his opponent, seemingly taking with it all the other combatants and their lone hostage. Before the priest could give a thought to where they had gone, the clock tower above him began to chime the beginning of November the Fifth, shaking him from his reverie.

Father Nightroad looked upon the sunrise and realized he had no time to waste as the clock tower made its final stroke of its bells. First, he had to remove Creedy's body before authorities arrived. Second, he had to warn Esther of the trap that awaited her once she stepped upon the threshold of Parliament. Third, he had to save Ion with Esther's help from those monstrous humans. With Creedy's body hidden in a nearby dustbin, Abel Nightroad then set out to reunite himself with his beloved star after two long years of denying himself of her light.

"I cannot fail Esther as I failed _her_…" he promised himself.

* * *

Esther reluctantly awoke as a sudden chill came over her due to last night's snowfall. She had had the most bittersweet dream, unlike the nightmares that plagued her, for she had dreamed this same dream continuously every night over the course of two years.

_It began with Abel, as the Dark Angel of Destruction slain at the hands of the White Angel of Death as she watched helplessly. She would see him revert back to his human form and whisper her name with his dying breath. However, it was only the beginning. From there it led her back to the Church where she mourned Abel, and _he_ would come, calling her name in way that made her blood freeze._

"What are you doing here? Can't you leave Father Nightroad in peace?"

_**"Oh, not just yet,"**_ _the white demon would smile_, **_"Abel and I are soon to become one. After all, we two were originally one being. We shared the exact same genetic code. And now we shall become one once again, together for all eternity."_**

_She wanted to protest, but her voice was caught in her throat, as fear sapped her courage each second she was with _him_._

_**"Joined we both benefit. I get a complete body, and Abel enjoys an existence free without suffering or distress. By becoming one, he can finally be able sleep peacefully within me forever."**_

_She finally asked in a tremulous voice, "I don't understand. What are you?"_

His _dark smile became wider, "**I am a Crusnik, my dear. A being who is in need of nothing, while at the same time, a being who is in need of everything."**_

_As he looked upon her, she could almost see the suppressed lust in the icy abyss that were _his _eyes._

He_ would then reach out to her. _

That normally would be when the screaming began, leaving Esther bathed in a cold sweat.

However, last night's dream had been completely different.

_She was alone and cold in darkness. She tried calling out to the one her heart desired, held by a sheer hope that he would come back to her, but he never came. Just when empty despair filled her, when she began to lose all hope, she heard a voice calling her back. It was his voice, Abel's voice. She called out even louder and he appeared. He wasn't in Crusnik form, like in her nightmare, but in his normal black cassock and rosary, his winter-lake like eyes obstructed by silver rimmed glass and his silver hair pulled back by a black ribbon. She looked into his eyes and saw longing and sorrow._

_He was about to fade back into the darkness, but she reached out and grasped his hand._

_"Abel," she whispered breathlessly. "Come back... don't go... please."_

_They stood together holding hands for a few moments. She then looked up to him and a small tear of blood escaped the corner of his right eye, which turned a darker shade of red._

_"I am so sorry, Esther. Forgive me, I never meant to hurt you," His voice came out in a rasp, like a man drowning in repentance._

The Albian Queen sighed, then put her hand to her forehead. Instead of bringing her sorrow, the dream gave her hope that Abel was alive and he didn't blame her for his death. She also hoped that wherever he was, God was protecting him.

She then rose from her bed and draped her robe over her ivory silk nightgown. A very old fashioned garment with white lace on the collar, sleeves and hem and therefore not very warm. Out of habit, she walked over to her balcony window that was slightly covered in frost and gasped in surprise at what lay before her beyond the glass.

* * *

I wanted to properly apologize for my unseeming behavior from last night.

After all that was not only my best friend that I spat at, but my liege and sovereign. I should have been put to death for what I have done, but Her Majesty is indeed the most merciful person that I had ever known. Ten times more merciful than the bloody Wolf I had to live with for almost the majority of my life.

I could slightly understand why Her Majesty loved that priest, especially after he willingly sacrificed his own life to save hers when she still lived in Hungaria. But that doesn't change the fact that he hurt her, worse than the Contra Mundi could have ever done. He was alive all this time while letting Her Majesty think him dead! Why didn't he come back to her if he loved her at all?

I finally made it to Her Majesty's chamber door, carefully trying to balance the tray that held her morning breakfast of a gourmet eggy in the basket as well as a Herend Chinoiserie (8) tea set that held a full bodied Assam tea.(9) I made a quick rap at Her Majesty's door, but no answer.

I made another rap and called out, "Pardon me, Lady Esther." Again, no answer.

I called out louder. "Lady Esther!" Oh great... she _was_ mad at me. Well, I definitely deserved it.

I was about to leave and then her heard her call, telling me to come in.

I did as I was bidden and she was standing, with her back to me, staring out at the frozen glass doors.

I placed the tray on the nearby desk and bowed my head and placed my hand over my heart. "Your Majesty, Lady Esther," I addressed her.

"There is no need for you to be so formal, Sarah." I flinched slightly, but not from fear. Her voice wasn't angry, thank God, because when she was mad, oh boy, Hell hath no fury like that of the Albian Queen pissed off, but it was... different. Lighter and much... happier?

"Please, just for this moment, Your Majesty," I knelt on the ground, my head bowed, my face downcast. I could tell she had turned to face me, but I still couldn't see her expression. I didn't want to look upon her just yet. "I wish to apologize for my unseeming behavior last night. If you wish to kill me, banish me, or remove me from your service, I deserve as much. Forgive me for my attitude and for my disrespectful comments."

I waited for her to call the death sentence, or to say that I was banished, or possibly that I was no longer her handmaiden; however, she did no such thing. I felt her hand touch my head then moved to touch my shoulder. I dared to look up.

She was smiling. Not one of sorrow or emptiness, but a real smile, one that lit up her lapis lazuli eyes, for the first time after two long years.

"It's all right, Sarah. God tells us to forgive and I accept your apology and, no, you are not to be killed, banished or removed from my service. After all, if I do so, I will lose a valuable friend." She giggled.

Instead of expressing my gratitude, I then -stupidly!- asked, "Who are you and what have you done with Her Majesty?"

She didn't take any offense at this, instead she laughed. Laughed! A laugh that was like a ringing silver bell, filled with happiness. "Relax, Sarah, I am myself."

I was so freaked out that I didn't immediately register that she was clutching a midnight black feather in her hand.

Next Chapter: Death on the Thames.  
Avert not, thine eyes.

* * *

(1) Indirect quote to _The Aneid _by Virgil. The phrase in Latin is _Facilis descensus Averni _- The descent into Hell is easy.

(2) Quoted from _Macbeth_ in Act III, Scene II by William Shakespeare

(3) Indirect quote from the novel series _Vampire Hunter D_, Volume Iby Hideyuki Kikuchi: "Transient guests are we." The original quote was supposedly made by the Nobility's Sacred Ancestor, Dracula, who stated that those who built the vampire super-civilization were so.

(4) Quoted from John Milton's _Paradise Lost._

(5) Quoted from the Latin Vulgate Book of Revelation 1:18, the translation from the KJV is: "_I am _he that liveth, and was dead; and behold, I am alive forever more, Amen."

(6) This phrase is used by the Catholic Church in funerals for the dead. The Latin translation is: "Sin is eternal, so I must pray for the dead." The second half of this phrase was quoted from the short story "The Cask of Amontillado," by Edgar Allen Poe, the translation is -obviously- "Rest in peace."

(7) Indirect quote to Gaston Leroux's _The Phantom of the Opera_. (The book inspired the musical by Andrew Lloyd Weber and then the musical inspired the movie by Joel Schumancher.) The orginal quote was: "TWO HUNDRED KILOS ON THE HEAD OF A CONCIERGE/ That was her sole epitaph!"

(8) Argueably one of Herend Porcelain's most famous china patterns that was debuted in 1851. This china set caught the eye of Queen Victoria, during the first World's Fair in London. Also note that Herend Porcelain is a Hungarian manufacturer of luxury porcelain goods that was popular amongst many European aristocrats in the Victorian Age. I though Esther might like this brand of porcelain, considering she was raised in Hungaria. (Note: _Black Butler _reference.)

(9) Assum tea is (as stated in the text) a full bodied black tea that is commonly used in breakfast tea blends. It is REALLY good, I drink a cup almost every day. (Note: _Black Butler _reference.)

A/N: OMG! I can't believe it I'm done! YES! I never knew I could write action shots, I hope I did a good job. This is my first time writing romantic fluff, I hope I did a good job on that, but I absolutely DID NOT have either _Twilight_ or _Midnight Sun _out while I was writing this, inspiration came from _Star Wars Episode II_. (That was a little ode to my editor **Jedi Skysinger**. Hee.) However, considering Abel and Edward Cullen's similar characteristics **Jedi Skysinger **and I had to add that small joke. ^^ Besides I bet Seth must have gotten a hold of the Twilight Saga while she was still on Earth, considering she's an "eternal teenager" as well. :) Sorry for the cliffy at the end and that I cannot answer whether or not Esther is going to live but... you will have to wait and see. (tears.)

Many people, as I have noticed, seem to like the love triangle Ion x Esther x Abel, but I'm trying to avoid a Twilight Triangle, so I decided that Ion should love Esther as a friend instead of forcing her to choose between him or Abel. I thought for sure at the end of the Night of Lords Arc (Anime) and the Empress of the Night Arc (Manga and Novels.) that when Esther chose to return to Rome than stay in the Empire with Ion, he might've realized that Esther didn't love him as a lover, but as a friend. He also might've noticed how Abel felt for her and Esther for Abel (but they were blinded.) So I decided to stick to that and keep focus on the main pairing. I hope I kept Ion in character throughout all this, and I personally thank **Aperio** and **Jedi Skysinger **for helping me with his complex character. ;) And of course my lovely readers and reviewers such as **smcandy**, **Aperio, Yuhi Sakura, White Rose Fox, Shadow-Catrina Irving, Arra-Lune Nightray, darkrusnik05, eXraNIo, Morningstar101** and **InuBaki.**

Mysteriously yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	9. VIII: Death on the Thames

A/N: ACK! I'm sorry I didn't update in like two months! I had a REALLY bad case of writer's block for a while and I had to take a break from TB. You ask: "What did I do during this break?" I read _The Odyssey _by Homer, watched _Seirei no Moribito/ Moribito: Guardian of the Sprit_, the _Black Butler _manga by Yana Toboso and the fist six episodes of the subbed _Kuroshitsuji_ Anime, and I went to... MEGA CON! Now that I'm back, I'm also working on a (even though **Jedi Skysinger **and I think this version of her is a BEEEP) Manga Caterina x Tres FF as well that takes place after the Lady Saint Arc. Well here it is: CH VIII!

**Chapter VIII Part I: Death on the Thames**

_Give them all breath,  
These clamourous harbingers of blood and death._

- _William Shakespeare,_ Macbeth Act V, Scene VI

A decision had to be made.

Not only was the Count of Memphis in danger, the world was on the brink of war at the hands of human terrorists.

More importantly the star that bound him to this world was threatening to go out. Again.

Her life had been threatened the few times before. The first time was when the mad Marquis of Hungaria had tried to take her life because she held a faux deactivation code for his late wife's "legacy," the Star of Sorrow and it took every ounce of his being not to activate the Crusnik in him to 80% capacity. The second time the traitorous Baron of Luxor, Radu Barvon, an Infrit, threatened her than attempted to murder her with the Inquisitorial tank, the Goliath, while she attempted to protect Ion's unconscious, battered and bloodied body. That time Abel went insane and used the Crusnik to full capacity and destroyed, not only Radu, but the tank and the two five star Inquisitorial battle airships; the Raquel and the Raphael. However, that was the first time Esther saw the Crusnik and she nearly fainted from the horrifying sight. He saved her many other times, once from the Earl of Memphis when he was forced into bloodthrist and from that Auto-Jäger in the Ghetto, but now he feared that he would not make it to her this time.

The silver haired priest couldn't have it end that way. He wouldn't fail her as he failed so many others, not only Noélle, but also Lilith.

There were only two options Abel Nightroad could take: either the he had to stay and wait for the Queen to arrive at Parliament and warn her there, or run off to the Palace and warn her ahead of time. He was not indecisive, except over what treats to indulge in, but the weight of the decision held him in his place. He knew they were coming to Parliament and he was already here. But where would she arrive and where would they try to take her life? That question alone decided for him.

"To the palace," he murmured as he sped towards his love.

* * *

The Queen of Albion readied herself, not only for Parliament, but for the upcoming attempt on her life, if the mysterious Sybil was correct in her prediction. Esther trusted her word and it was her word that revealed to her that Abel was still alive.

As she steeled herself, Sarah garbed her in a rich black velvet dress with multiple strings of pristine pearls. Esther had to admit her new wardrobe was indeed spectacular, but she preferred simpler garments from her humble life as a nun. However, this _was_ a session of Parliament, so she had to look her best. The reason she had opted for black instead of the usual white was to show that she mourned the wounded and the dead from the incident at St. Paul's Cathedral, and it would be at Parliament where she would discourse with the House of Lords and the House of Commons regarding the ones responsible for all this bloodshed, the Knights of Tudor.

The black dress was a low cut, princess style, but not too low, with a corset-like bodice, narrowing into a deep v-shape at her hips with white and gold vertical lines and golden beads in gleaming rows. The sleeves puffed out at the shoulder and revealed white silk in the diamond-shaped openings, then narrowed to the black sleeves that covered her slim wrists and were buttoned up with golden pearls, while the rest draped to her knees. The skirt was an Elizabethan style hoop skirt lined with white and gold to match the bodice. The collar of the dress was made of white lace which opened to reveal her slim neck and her collarbone and flared out around the shoulders. Suddenly, while her handmaidens encased her in her sartorial splendor, Esther was reminded of something. Did not the Sybil state that the "Bloody Rose" had sided with _him_? The Enemy of the World, the one who had caused her two years worth of pain and heartache.

"Bloody Rose," she murmured as she pondered, then it struck her. The symbol for the Tudor Knights was a white and red rose, one that looked like a white rose covered in blood with a sword slicing through it. Of course! The Contra Mundi was too clever to kill her outright with his legions of Rosenkreuz agents and expose himself to the world. Rather, _he_ would use those who naturally hated her to carry out _his_ plan of killing her. However, the Albian Queen wouldn't give _him_ the satisfaction that _he_ desired: her death. She would fight the fate _he_ placed upon her and she would make it out alive because she knew now that Abel was out there somewhere and he needed her.

When Sarah had finished checking the last crease, Naomi draped an Elizabethan collar over Esther's neck, complete with a white silk ruff that caressed her jawline. The collar was covered in more pearls and sported a ruby pendant that matched her hair. After that, Naomi completed the ensemble by adding the royal ring to Esther's right hand and draping her sliver rosary onto her shoulders. To her left was Mary, garbed in her ceremonial uniform holding a crown in her strong hands and to her right was Virgil. Covering his usual suit were the white and black robes of a Lord of Parliament, replete with a chain of gold.

"I do hope that you know what you're doing, Esther," Mary said somberly.

"So do I, Mary... so do I…" Esther sighed "I only hope no one will have to die, should anything happen to me. If the Knights try anything…" Esther bit her lip as she remembered what happened to the Old Bailey and those five victims, all of which were priests.

"Esther, we won't let that happen. You are too important to us and to your people. If you die, it will not only be a personal loss to us, but the whole nation will mourn you as well. You've changed everything within Albion for its own good. Those who oppose you wanted Albion to stay as it was, that is why they have rebelled against you. You are the Star of Hope. You can bring about the era of peace that Queen Bridget prophesied. We are on your side," Vigil stated.

Esther couldn't help but be reminded of Abel's words, of his first promise to her. She smiled at the memory and she tightly clutched the ebony feather in her hand.

She turned to a red robed Vanessa who stood guard just outside the doorway with Erica, another handmaiden, "Are the _necessary precautions _in place?"

Vanessa smirked, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Mary stepped forward and placed the crown upon Esther's head as Naomi weaved a few last strings of pearls into her ruby tresses.

"Let's go finish this," Esther declared, a gleam in her eye more in keeping an AX agent or the Partisan warrior than with a monarch.

* * *

If ever in my near-immortal life did I ever believe in hell, then I was in it now.

This wasn't the first time.

About three years ago, I nearly drank the blood of the one I held close to my heart. That accursed Puppet Master shot me with a bullet that caused me to burn with the thirst. Never before in my life until that moment did I ever crave the blood of another Terran. Even when that vile monster in Terran skin offered her a chance to kill me with a silver sword, she didn't take it. That amazing woman offered up her blood to me, saying I could have her blood, it wasn't my fault and that I shouldn't cry. I still remember the fierce scent of her blood when my lips nearly touched her beautiful, white throat. Before I could commit the sin the Terrans called "theft of blood," I stabbed myself with the sword and nearly took my own life to save hers. Fortunately, Father Nightroad saved Esther and myself and even gave me a vial full of Aqua Vitae to sate the thirst.

However much that memory forever burned in my mind like that terrible thirst, this hell was a thousand times worse.

I was poisoned with silver, the very substance that could kill a Methuselah if hit in a vital region or cause us to become as weak as a Terran. Not only was I poisoned by the foul substance, I was bound by it, making my escape from these Terran filth impossible. They didn't poison me enough to kill me, only enough to keep me weak, keep me like them. "We need this beast alive," they had agreed among themselves. If their insults were not enough, their casual conversation about killing my closest friend kept my rage, however impotent it was, burning in my chest. I was helpless to save her, helpless to save myself, though the former mattered more than the latter. I burned with my hatred of them as they planned to use me to start a war with my Empress and plunge the world into Armageddon again. If only there were some way to release my fury against them, some way to wipe them out of existence as they planned to do with my people.

The one who looked down upon me as if I were mere trash was the devil in this personal hell. Lord Chancellor Sutler, Lord Speaker or Duke of Cornwall, as his subordinates called him. His Albian titles reminded me of the traitorous Süleyman, the late Duke of Tigris, the Vice Prime Minister and Assistant Privy Council Director. Even though he hated the Empress and tried to have her killed, as well as my Lady Grandmother and myself, he couldn't bring himself to end Her Majesty. Even in death, Süleyman was still the most noble _Boyar_ of the Tzara Methuselute.(1) However, this scum and the rest of his accomplices were nothing more than treasonous dogs, who wanted power for themselves and would use any means necessary to get it and they would not hesitate to kill, even their liege.

"Is everything set?" the bronze-eyed man asked those named Mr. Heyer and Mr. Ethridge.

"Yes, my Lord," Mr. Ethridge proclaimed. "Though we were set back a bit, due to Mr. Dascomb's grievous wound by that vampire…" He shot me a murderous glance, but I didn't even flinch, "and our missing Lord Chief of Justice, Mr. Creedy."

Sutler raised an eyebrow. "He's not back yet? I thought for sure he would love to see the flaming demise of the witch."

"Mr. Creedy didn't know what he was up against when he fought Father Nightroad and no doubt he has met his match," I snarked, smirking.

"S'UT YUR GOB, YA FILT'Y LEECH!" Mr. Heyer stormed up to me and kicked me in the face with the heel of his shoe.

"HOLD IT, MR. HEYER!"

Another face emerged in the catacombs beneath Parliament where I was currently being held captive. What was this traitor's name again? Mr. Stone? He grabbed Mr. Heyer by the arm, holding him back.

"Remember what the Lord Speaker said?" he scolded Heyer, "We MUST NOT, under any circumstances, leave behind ANY form of evidence! If our DNA appears on this vampire, we have signed our own death sentences! So think about what you're doing before you bloody act!"

"He _is_ right, Mr. Heyer," Sutler replied. "Right now, it is absolutely necessary to control your temper. We need to make it look like the _vampire_ killed Her Majesty, not _us_. Understand?"

"Yes, Milord," Heyer apologized, then shot me another murderous glare and growled, "Ef any ot'er bloomin' word escapes yer fool mout', leech, once yu've been sentenced to deat', rest assured, Ie'll be th' one to put a staeke in yur bloody 'eart."

"Ooh, we're so scared." I returned sarcastically. "The Kingdom of Albion, the Vatican and, more importantly Her Majesty the Empress Augusta, won't be so fooled as to believe we, the Earl of Memphis, caused this crime. They will know you shameless curs have tried to kill the Albian Queen."

"'_Tried_'?" It was Mr. Ethridge's turn to raise his eyebrow. "Oh, little leech, this plan has been crafted for over _ten months_. Her Majesty will die and we will purify this country once she is gone."

"If the Queen is your target, then why did you destroy St. Paul's?" I questioned. "They were innocent bystanders! They were not involved in your vendetta against the Queen!"

"To answer your questions, little vampire," Sutler leered, "we destroyed the cathedral because not only is the Queen our enemy, but the Vatican. We destroyed the St. Paul's was so that the Vatican would call the Inquisition to our land and place Albion under martial law. Once that's happened, we will show the people the true hypocritical nature of the Catholic Church and they will rise up against them with us. As for 'bystanders,' there are no bystanders in war, the people are either with us or against us!"

"We want to awaken these people that peace with enemies isn't the way to exist. You vampires are the number one enemy of all humans and the Vatican wants to control all humans as well. You vampires drink our blood whenever the urge hits you and you wish to conquer all of us humans and assimilate us into your Empire to become your livestock. The Vatican uses its Inquisition as a tool of conquering all other nations that disagree with its views and it kills all those that won't submit. Before that fate befalls our country, we must fight all enemies, even if that enemy believes they are God's representatives on Earth!"

"If you have displeasure with how Her Majesty rules over Albion, why didn't you all speak to her? Share with her your wisdom! My lost Tovarås made that very mistake, and it cost him his life! You think murdering your liege is anything but treason?"

"It is not treason to stop witchcraft," Sutler spat back "It is not 'treason' to save the Albian people from a queen who allies herself with her country's own enemies!"

"If the Vatican and the Empire are your enemies, how will it help your cause to kill Esther?" I protested, realizing a second too late the error I had made.

"'Est'er?'" Mr. Heyer questioned. "W'y do yer call 'Er Majesty so informally?"

"There!" declared Sutler, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "That is what I am talking about! Did you do hear, gentlemen? This leech thinks himself worthy to call the Queen by name, a practice she no doubt encourages! This is why we must be committed to stopping our enemies at all costs before they can destroy this country from without and from within! Come, gentlemen, come! We must complete our plans immediately! Mr. Ethridge, is the device ready?"

"Yes, milord," Ethridge replied. "The bomb won't go off _until_ the Queen arrives to the Gates. It's programmed to respond to her DNA. When she arrives, it will explode and then it's... _Auf Wiedersehen_ to the witch."

"Good. I'll have to give a personal _Danke Schöen_ to _Mein Herr_ once I'm Lord-_-_"

"_Mein Herr_?" My mind raced. They couldn't possibly mean... "You don't mean-"

"S'UT IT, LEECH!" Mr. Heyer screamed.

"It's none of your concern," Mr. Stone declared.

"IT IS OUR CONCERN!" I shrieked "You who call yourselves 'pure humans' associate with the Enemy of the World?"

"'The ends justify the means,(2)" Mr. Ethridge stated flatly. "Even if we must sell our souls to a devil, we will end the witch. _He _wants her dead, so do we."

* * *

_Blood hath been shed ere now, I'th' olden time... It will have blood, then say; blood will have blood_. (3)

"Damn, damn, damn, DAMN!"

"Idiot!" Abel cursed to himself. He was just en route to the Palace when the royal motorcade passed him going the other way. The throngs of people had already begun to gather along the route, multiplying exponentially as the minutes grew shorter. Now he could not turn through the mass of Terrans and Methuselah that blocked his path. As the line of cars sped away, Abel leapt over the crowd, his robes flaring like wings, to run along road behind Her Majesty's security forces in their troop trucks.

It was an early morning, a chilly morning as last night's snow flurries decorated the ground with a glittering white sheet and still Esther's subjects turned out by the hundreds to greet her. "Queen Esther, the Star of Hope, the Lady Saint of István," they chanted. Abel would have appreciated their loyalty except for the fact that they were in his way! Not only throngs of well wishers, but every bloody media outlet on the island was there covering the event. Why hadn't he stayed here?

The motorcade arrived. Abel tried pushing his way through, but the guardsmen swarmed from their troop trunk and surrounded him. He leapt over them as well, now landing in the crowd as it surged forward against the barricades. He knocked over a number of people, but didn't spare a moment to apologize. There! She was climbing out of the lead car, another quick jump and he would be at her side…

Then it happened. Rolling flames like the fires of Hell itself burst from the doors of Parliament. The street rocked and people screamed as they were pelted with debris. As the smoke began to clear, people began screaming.

There... Her charred form lying the street, smoldering still... a fallen star come to Earth...

"The Queen is dead!" a girl screamed right next to him, but sound seemed very far away... everything seemed very cold and distant and not real... because if it were real... he felt his heart begin to splinter into a thousand shards, his mind come undone from its moorings... he was adrift in a river of denial, unable to move, unable to process anything. It could not be real... there had to be another explanation... there had to be!

The epiphany hit him.

Esther was dead.

The star that bound him to this world was no more, like a pulsar, she became like ash after the supernova.

There was nothing he could do. No mechanics of Lost Technologies could save her as it saved him, no healing powers of the Saints could bring her back from this state.

His decision of leaving her for two years, letting her think him dead, thinking it would save her, had brought her into the arms of Death.

"It's too late... it was all... too late. For both you _and_ me. I... I killed you... as I killed…" his voice cracked, "I had failed you... my love… as I had failed _her_…"

Tears of blood then streaked his face as he cried out, his voice holding every sorrow and every pain in the world.

He cried those pitiful tears, blood, salt and water mingled together in his eyes and fell down his cheeks, leaving crimson streaks down his face. One tear landed upon his white gloved fist.

Sorrow then turned to anger and that anger then turned to something he could not contain...

Rage.

_Revenges burn in them, for their dear causes/ Would do bleeding and the grim alarm/ Excite the mortified man_... (4)

The Crusnik nanomachines in him demanded freedom... demanded full control... demanded to _destroy_...

And for the second time in his life... he was willing to accommodate their demand.

Then it hit him. The smell... but it wasn't the smell of blood... but the smell of burnt subcutaneous circulatory fluid...

"What?" How could that smell be here? Surely he should have smelled burnt blood and flesh, not this scent.

He looked over at her fallen body, and sure enough, the scent was emanating from it.

Then he realized, this wasn't a dead human, it was a broken machine.

Esther was still alive!

Next Chapter: Before Parliament  
Avert not thine eyes

* * *

A/N: HA-HA HA-HA HA! Made ya look, didn't I? I thought so. (Giggles evilly) Sorry I left you all in suspense, but that is one of the things a good author does. Keep the reader guessing. We know now that Esther-chan is still alive, but here's the next questions: where is she? Are the Knights going to take over? What will happen to Ion? All these questions will be answered in my next update. ^^

(1) Indirect quote from _Julius Caesar _by William Shakespeare. The original quote was by Marc Antony who described Brutus, the man who murdered Caesar, as "the most noble Roman of them all." I thought this quote would be perfect to describe Süleyman.

(2) Quoted from _The Prince _by Niccolò Machiavelli. He based this book as a guide to gaining and maintaining political power by justifying the judicious use of ruthlessness and deceit. One of those he studied was the Cardinal I mentioned in Chapter V. This is a BIG hint to those who are fans of a certain _beautiful poison_.

(3) Quoted from _Macbeth, Act III, Scene IV_ by William Shakespeare.

(4) Quoted from _Macbeth, Act V, Scene II_ by William Shakespeare.

Anyway the dress Esther is wearing to Parliament was inspired from this artwork by this beautiful baroque opera artist THORES Shimbamoto: link

Read and review! I will greatly appreciate that. And many thanks to **SayanXDii** and Nikki/**koroluna33** from Mega Con for the recent one. :)

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress

(Note: This update was on the fifth day of the week (Thursday), the fifth day of the month and on the fifth month (May) :) ) _V for Vendetta_


	10. IX: Before Parliament

A/N: I hoped you guys will enjoy this update as you did my last one. What will happen now that Parliament thinks Esther is dead, when in truth, she's alive? Read and find out. Note: there is a reason why one should NEVER skip school, and it will be explained later. There is a character based off of **Jedi Skysinger's **hubby **Darth Tyronnius Shoelaces**. I hope you guys will enjoy this. ;) In the words of Anakin Skywalker: This is where the fun begins.

**Chapter IX: Before Parliament**

_Though they did into hell, thence shall be mine hand to take them; though they climb up to heaven, thence I shall bring them down…_

- Amos 9: 2

**Meanwhile in Vatican City, Rome...**

Daylight caressed the proud city, making it marble glow with a pure light, almost resembling the promised city of a New Heaven and a New Earth when Christ would return. Ancient history, dating back over one thousand years after the Armageddon, was hewn in every brick, in every stone. The hymns and prayers of holy pilgrims and the faithful could be heard along with the deep melody of church bells. Such a day was a mockery of what was occurring in the Room of Archangel in the Apostolic Palace. Normally, morning mass would have been held, holding the room in a sense of calmness and tranquility; however, the booming, raging voice of the Duke of Florence, cut through the previously established silence.

"Preposterous!" the baritone voice of the Cardinal of Venezia was currently echoing throughout the sacred chamber, demanding answers from a nearby aide. "St. Paul's Cathedral destroyed in a single night?"

His Holiness and the assembly of the College of Cardinals had been called into an emergency meeting that day. Within the circular chamber of beige and marble, everyone was currently seated in their allocated places, keenly listening to the grievous report from Albion.

"Indeed, Your Eminence. It is with solemnity that I relay this to you. All preliminary intelligence from Albion state that at 20:05, on November the fourth, St. Paul's, one our oldest cathedrals and one of our strongholds amidst a nation of heretics, was destroyed. Five clergymen were among the casualties, one being an archbishop. Fortunately, everyone else among St. Paul's clergy were still alive along with twenty wounded. Re-enforcements have only just arrived and are currently surveying the damage."

Cardinal Francesco di Medici, the Chief Minister of the Holy Ministry of Doctrine was an intimidating man who was widely known for his predisposition for battle and boldness. As General Commander of the Inquisition, he didn't believe in compromise, and preferred to respond to situations with militarism, violence and force. His visage matched his reputation, his dark coffee hair was cleanly cut upon his brow, his facial features were hard and striking, and his blue eyes currently resembled steel. His blood-red robes attested to all the lives that he had taken in his struggle for power. His golden-lined gray inner robes attested to his dying purity that had become corrupted with his conniving. Many knew that he wished to become the Bishop of Rome, but because he was illegitimate, he was denied this supposed right. In response he conspired with his current rival to put their younger brother as a political sacrifice upon the altar of power so he may control the Holy See using his puppet, the current Pope. Unfortunately, 'His Holiness' was now beginning to outright defy him and the power he had worked so hard to attain was now slipping through his fingers.

Now with St. Paul's destroyed, he could now wage war with Albion. Albion, in Francesco's eyes, was a heretical human state that actually had the audacity to let the parasitical scum known as vampires walk among them in so-called peace. The witch currently in charge had been his blasted sister's subordinate, and like his sister, she was a repugnant moderate that would no doubt lead her State to its own destruction. In order to prevent that, he had to cleanse it by means of exterminating all the vampires, their human sypathizers and the heretics that crawled throughout it by means of war. He couldn't do so originally because of those damn Accords, an unclean, unnecessary and unfruitful means of making 'peace.' In his mind, peace could only come when the world was purged from these enemies of humanity: the vampires. Making peace with them could only lead to more strife and future struggles. Now that Albion had destroyed one of the Vatican's own strongholds and violated the Treaty, he had full right to send in the Inquisition and finally slaughter, not only those who destroyed that beautiful symbol of their authority, but those fell fanged beasts as well.

"All of those people... I hope they find peace in Heaven," the Holy Father whispered to himself, while at the same time he thought: _I can only pray that Esther is okay._

His Holiness, Pope Alessandro XVIII, was currently seated at the head of the room upon a high throne of gold, ivory and velvet. He was garbed in robes of white silk and golden threads that concealed his sickly flesh. Though His Holiness appeared to be a fragile, weak and unassuming young boy with gray hair and a pale, acne marred, complexion, in truth his Faith and kind heart make him unknowingly more superior to his sibling and it showed greatly in his saxe blue eyes. Behind the throne there was a golden cross and shining from within was a light that illuminated the one who was God's Representative on Earth.

Seated to his left, upon a simple golden throne was his brother, Cardinal di Medici. To his right sat the blonde Milanese beauty that was Cardinal Sforza, his sister. Her eyes were closed in contemplative thought and she was currently the calmest of the three. However, her sharp mind was in motion as she analyzed how to prepare for the argument that was bound to come. Caterina knew one thing: if Francesco had his way, he would reply to Albion's "attack" with quick and severe retaliation. She also knew that Francesco's presence normally frightened Alessandro to no end, the usual result being the young Pope reluctantly agreeing with his militaristic elder sibling. Fortunately, after two years, Alessandro had begun to harden himself against Francesco's bellicose displays towards him. Unfortunately, from the event that had just occurred, the Accords she worked so hard to pass could just as easily end up in flames and Francesco knew it. No doubt he would utilize every ounce of his intimidation and fear-tactics upon her unfortunate younger brother until the shield the young man had created would shatter. Caterina would do everything in her power to prevent that.

"There is no place in Heaven for heretics and heathens," Francesco reminded him coldly.

"Those who died were of the Faith," Alessandro countered.

Originally Alessandro was a frightened young lad who hated himself because he was always under the shadow of his elder brother, Francesco and his elder sister, Caterina. The pressure of being in such a high position added further pain to his heart. However, two years ago, when he was hiding out in a underground nest of vampires, he saw what he could do as Pope of the Catholic Church to help bring peace to a fallen world just as God had asked Peter, the first Pope, to do. He saw for the first time that vampires-er, Methuselah, were not the monsters that Francesco claimed them to be. He saw that they were human as well. They were people who laughed when they were happy, cried when they were sad, raged when they were angered and, more importantly, a people that could love. After seeing this with his own eyes, Alessandro then asked his sister, Caterina, what he could do for the world and Caterina had smiled and said that he had "grown up." Unfortunately, standing up to his boisterous and demanding brother who had been using him as a puppet for over ten years was no easy feat. His elder brother had used Alessandro's greatest weakness against him for over a decade: he could not stand yelling or loud noises. However, knowing that his sister, his friend and more importantly Christ his Savior, was on his side, he had stood up to Francesco and had proved victorious. A feat Caterina would like to see repeated here and now.

"Which is why we cannot tolerate this abhorrent attack without a swift and decisive response! We must declare Albion under _imperium in imperio _in accordance with Vatican Canon Law, Article Four!" Francesco exclaimed with his usual dramatic flare, as he rose from his throne to stand before the white-robed lad, his robes billowing around behind him.

"Brother," The Chief Minister of State interjected from her throne, "our current alliance with Albion and the Empire would be in jeopardy if we undertook such action."

Caterina Sforza was no stranger to the bellowing tirades of Francesco. Normally, the differences of their ideology placed the siblings in such heated debates and arguments that she was often placed at the firing end of Francesco's rage. This, however, was completely different, for the co-existence between both Terrans and Methuselah, humans and vampires hung in the balance, as well as Alessandro's current strength.

"They have brought this on themselves! To not act would be to encourage further violence! Would you have them attack the Palace next? What would happen to your precious Queen then?"

At the mention of Esther, the young pontiff could not help but think of her, think back on his first meeting with her. Three years ago, Alessandro had met a girl that had helped him start on his path of manhood. That same girl, now a woman and a monarch, had been one of the few friends that he had in his life. He cared for her not because he was in love with her -though he will admit that he originally had a crush on her- he cared for her because she was a true friend, almost as much of sister in reality as Caterina was by blood.

"Your Holiness, you MUST act now!" thundered Cardinal di Medici.

"No, Your Holiness-!" Cardinal Sforza countered, hoping Francesco hadn't battered down her younger sibling's defenses just yet.

"_Invitat culpam qui peccatum praeterit_.(1) We will not stand by as a nation of heretics destroy the peace we have established. We will find those who had committed this horrid sin and strike them down in divine retribution. Those heretics will think twice before they attack one of our own, if it means that we must abolish alliances to do it, so be it! We will see to it that God's will be done and the _Vienam Domini _(2) shallbefall they who threatened us!"

"Wait," commanded a voice whose owner was not yet quite in the room. "I would speak on behalf of the Albian Kingdom," his soft tenor voice cut through the heated argument.

"Cardinal Borgia," he said as he rounded on his other rival who came into to the room with an quiet grace, "what right have you to be here?" demanded Cardinal Francesco.

"'What right?'" Cardinal Borgia, the Chief Minister of the Holy Ministry of Public Relations and of the Holy Ministry of Information, smiled ironically. "I am a Cardinal and is this not an assembly of the College? I do recall I have a right to be here. As such, now that I am, I would like to speak on behalf of Albion, _before_ you call the Inquisition down upon their heads."

Francesco huffed. That Borgia brat was always countering him, even in his own thoughts.

Cardinal Antonio de Borgia y Borgia, Prince of Hispania, was a man of great ambition. Unfortunately for Francesco, Antonio possessed a powerful charisma that made his original supporters side with him and he was currently an ally of that vixen of a half-sister, Caterina. He, too, was garbed in gilded lined white and red robes; however, these robes didn't match his gorgeous completion of dark alabaster skin and burnt umber hair that fell beautifully to his shoulders. What stood out the most were his sparking peridot eyes, and his eyes weren't the eyes of a priest, his eyes were the eyes of a king.

"Your Holiness," the Cardinal bowed before the young Pope, turning away from Francesco, "from the intelligence I've gathered from my resources in Albion, this was not the work of those loyal to Her Majesty, the Queen, but by rebellious traitors that call themselves the Knights of Tudor. As we all know, Her Majesty has a deep love of this Church and would never dare to strike out at us. The Tudor Knights, on the other hand, are a group of radical Albians that wish to wipe out every one of the Faithful, as well as the Methuselah, in the isles. Her Majesty has attempted to seize these seditious rebels, but to no avail, for they conceal themselves well in the shadows of her Court. So this matter was not an act of violating the Accords, this was a ultimatum made by those who are criminals. Therefore, I do not believe we, the Vatican, have any right to forcefully place Albion under _imperium in imperio_, but rather we should give Her Majesty our aid in ridding those who have caused this atrocity. Placing Albion under Martial Law will only cause more atrocities such as this to occur rather than end them."

"NO! That is not an option Your Holiness! These 'Knights' must have attacked because they thought us weak! We are merely giving them the excuse they desire by not acting now! If we send in the Inquisition without any further hesitation, we can show them we will not tolerate any form of-"

"You're just eager to shed blood as they are, aren't you, Cardinal di Medici." Antonio countered, turning his head toward the red-faced man before him and tilted his head slightly. "Is it because you want to shed the blood of the _humans_ who committed this atrocity or you want to shed the blood of the _vampires_ who are innocents in this case?"

The Chief Minister of Doctrine growled. Even though he believed what he was doing was right in killing vampires and so-called "heretics," by means of keeping peace amongst the Faithful. However, from Heaven's eyes, his un-repentance for murder, the killing of God's lost sheep be they Terran or Methuselah, had stained him with the blackest sins.

"You make a good point, Cardinal Borgia," Caterina chimed in from her position. "We should be assisting Her Majesty in regaining control of the situation and not adding to the chaos by giving the Church's enemies more reason to side against her and us."

"Eminencies!"

A man wearing a Vatican page uniform appeared in the middle of the room, or rather a hologram of him appeared.

"We have just received a report from Albion! It is said that the Albian Queen has perished!"

A disturbed murmer began to spread throughout the chamber like a disease through viens.

"Stream the transmission," Caterina commanded with urgency.

_A hazy blue image appeared where the page once was, filling the round projector from floor to ceiling. The scenes flickered and jumped, as though the projector was being held by hand, the person holding it being jostled and pushed by the crowd visible in the scene. It took a moment or so to realize that this was the Albian Parliament building in the background. The assembled throng surged around the Gates, jockeying for position. A young girl became visible on the screen. She surveyed the masses before her and grimaced widely, momentarily exposing her fangs before she pulled her hat down over her eyes and covered her face with the scarf she was wearing. Hunching down in to the black leather jacket she wore, she pushed towards the Gates._

"She's a vampire!" Francesco shouted.

_As the girl plowed in to the crowd, her hat still visible just above the heads of the others pushing toward the gate. Suddenly, a violent explosion rocked the image, throwing debris at the lens and causing the view to drop momentarily to the street. There were scenes of legs and coats and shoes as whoever was holding the recorder struggled to right it. Then a scream was heard._

_"The Queen is dead!"_

_The view zoomed in on the Methuselah girl who had just cried out, who suddenly vanished from view. Behind where she had been was a smoking mass on the sidewalk. The view zoomed in further at the same time it started to break up and pixelate. What had apparently been a human being a brief moment ago was lying in front of the destruction of the Gates. Then the hologram cut off._

"She murdered the Queen, why else would she run?" Cardinal di Medici declared.

"You don't even know that's the Queen. It could be a security guard," Caterina cut him off coldly.

"The timing of this information is very suspicious," Antonio agreed. "Almost deliberately vague, yet provocative."

"'Provocative,' isn't the word best to describe this blatant declaration of war! A vampire killed the Albian Queen! This gives us more than enough reasons to place Albion under Martial Law! The entire State of Albion must now be swept clean of all the filth that walk throughout it! Beginning with that monster that killed Her Majesty!"

"I am going to call the Palace," Cardinal Sforza announced as she swept out of the room. "We need more information about what has transpired before we call the Inquisition into action."

"And I am going to have a word with the communications officer," declared Cardinal Borgia as he followed her out. "It seems we'll be working together, honey."

"I don't see why you need to tag along," Caterina asked icily.

It couldn't have worked out any better if he had planned it that way. Francesco rounded on the Pope immediately, now that the boy's allies were gone. If Cesare and Caterina thought the other cardinals would keep him from acting on this opportunity, they had sadly misjudged the Chief Minister of Doctrine.

"YOUR HOLINESS!" He watched as Alessandro visibly trembled. Good! Now he'd acted like the obedient boy he once was. "You MUST deploy the fleet and find those who are responsible for the death of not only the clergy of St. Paul's, but the death of Her Majesty and avenge them! As they were of the Faith, you should understand, don't you, Your Holiness? Then please give me the command!"

"B-but... d-didn't God say 'v-vengeance i-is mine'(3)? I d-don't th-think we should—" the Pope stammered timidly, now that his final barrier had been broken.

"Your Holiness, if you don't act now, you would have defiled the memory of Her Majesty, the late Queen! We will mourn her in time, but for the sake and for the glory of humankind, we must see to it that those who have taken her from us have faced justice! God's will be done."

"There must be retaliation!" one declared.

"Indeed, this is an insult to our Church. No doubt those fiends are laughing at our expense," Archbishop D'Annunzio agreed.

"We cannot stand for such insubordination!" cried another.

Francesco smiled at how quickly his followers had returned to him and how the Pope had fallen into his hands once more, now that his rivals were removed. His smile was chilling, certainly not something that belonged on the face of someone of the cloth, who claimed to be on the side of Heaven. Unfortunately, they all had failed to see how the world had changed. Every human state would see the upcoming violence against Albion as unfavorable. Those in the Vatican did not understand that if they would not stop vying for political power, stop viewing those under their rule as mere sheep and accept Methuselah as fellow humans, instead of game animals and monsters, only then could they cease dancing in the palm of a greater Enemy. But as they were blinded by their own corruption and lust for power, they played right into _his_ hands.

* * *

The grounds surrounding the building were immediately swarming with troops. Colonel Spencer's army made quick work of removing the crowd and cordoning off the area of the explosion, so as not to further contaminate the area or impede their investigation. The citizens and the Albian media were effectively barred from Parliament and its environs. Airships were soon buzzing around the perimeter, discouraging anyone without military clearance from attempting to re-enter the area. Stunned by the realization that his beloved was not, in fact, the one lying dead and charred in the street, a dazed Father Nightroad was swept back with the crowd. Not wanting to make a scene -not yet in any case,- the priest allowed him to continue be pushed back toward the buildings across the street. Soon enough, the Lord Commissioner, Sir Arthur Randall, was on the scene immediately with Chief Inspector of the Yard, Lestrade. They stood over the smoky remains of what was supposed to be the Queen and had the "corpse" promptly removed. As Abel tried to move towards them, he was stopped immediately by a wall of blue uniformed troops.

"How did the Vatican get here so quickly?" Sir Randall muttered to no one in particular when he glimpsed Abel's uniform behind the line of armed men.

"Probably one of Her Majesty's secret body guards from her time in the AX," Lestrade answered, peering curiously at Abel as well.

"Who's in charge here?" the priest queried of no one in particular. No one seemed inclined to answer him and Randall and Lestrade chose to ignore him. As Abel attempted to push past again, this time he was forcibly pushed back.

"Who is charge here?" he asked again, his ire rising.

"Who wants to know?" asked the nearest armed guard, pushing Abel away even harder this time, causing him to stumble backwards in to the nearby wall.

Before he could protest, a strong arm snaked out of the darkness of the adjutant alleyway and pulled Father Nightroad in with it.

* * *

Only the Lords of the House of Lords and the Representatives of the House of Commons were admitted. Once they were assembled, what was left of the Gates of Parliament were sealed; all connections to the outside world severed. The members of Parliament milled about outside and within the chamber, unwilling to be seated. They murmured anxiously among themselves, sometimes loudly, sometimes as a whisper. The room was filled with tension and barely suppressed emotion. Fear, outrage, confusion all vied for prominence in the chamber. Eventually, they were herded in to the hallowed hall and those doors two were closed, although it did little to encourage them to come to order. If anything, the great space felt smaller, more claustrophobic with the doors firmly shut behind them because of what had happened.

Standing at one of the two podiums rising high on either side of the doors, the sergeant at arms rapped his staff and called for order repeatedly. Finally, all those had been admitted were seated in their allocated places, except the vacant positions of the Lord Chamberlain, the Lord Chief of Justice and, more importantly, the vacancy of the Albian throne at the center of the massive mahogany chamber opposite from the entrance. The presence of the handmaidens on either side of the throne, dressed in formal blue Albian military attire, made the absence of the Queen all the more telling. Finally, the Lord President of the Council came forth from behind the empty golden throne and stepped into his place in front of it.

"Assembled Lords and Representatives of the House of Lords and the House of Commons," rang out the tenor voice of Virgil Walsh. "On behalf of the Privy Council, we thank you for attending-"

"Can we dispense the pleasantries, Lord Walsh?" requested Dame Ann Buchanan, the representative for the Duchy of Mercia. "I believe we will accomplish little until we hear what has transpired."

"We will come to that, but first-"

"But first we must hear the truth of the matter," Lord Aliester Chamber, the Viscount of Druitt, interrupted. For such a slim and reserved man, his voice carried.

"And so we shall," declared Virgil with a huff. "First there are matters to which we must attend. What happened-"

"What did happen at the gates of Parliament?" demanded Lord Harold West, the Baron of Bath, emboldened by the others to speak.

"Enough," Integra, the Duchess of Lancaster countered sharply. "An investigation is surely underway to find out the means, method and motive of Her Majesty's demise."

"We know an investigation is underway, Countess Oxford!" exclaimed Sir Conroy, the recent husband to the Duchess of Kent and the Duchy's representative. "What we want now is answers! What the bloody hell has happened and how are we going to keep our country from collapsing, now that the Queen is dead?"

"Watch yerse'f, Conroy," James Stuart cut in. "Ye go too far!"

"_You_ go too far, Stuart. For all we know this could be the work of your Frank-"

"Silence!" the sergeant at arms thundered from his place atop the podium. There was momentary break in the noise

"I will NOT tolerate this mindless speculation," Lord Walsh hissed in a tone that sent chills throughout the collective spinal columns in the room. "We will have order and then we will have answers."

The elder Methuselah stared hard and the assembled faces in the chamber, daring any to break the silence again. Into that silence came a sudden grunt from the sergeant at arms. Virgil turned his attention with the rest of the government to the podium at the far end of the great hall where the man had just collapsed, only to be replaced by a tall, thin albeit athletically built man in a dark suit and a trench coat. Virgil's sharp eyes could make out the symbol of the Tudor Knights pinned to his lapel. He bent silently and shifted the unconscious man to the side before taking his place at the side of the entryway.

"Thank you, Mr. Heyer," said a voice from beyond the entryway.

"What's the meaning of this?" Lord Walsh demanded in that same controlled, yet deadly tone he had employed the moment before.

Adam Sutler, a reedy, sallow man, stepped from the shadows and into the center of the podium.

"You wanted answers. We have your answers, My Lords," he called out to his audience. "And we will provide the order this country deserves and so desperately needs."

The handmaidens at either side of the throne stiffened and looked toward Walsh, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. Two of the three vanished immediately. Virgil turned his attention back to the other end of the room.

"What answers do you have, Lord Chancellor?" queried the Earl of Manchester.

"We have apprehended the murderer of Her Majesty and, as a matter of fact, we have him here before us, vampire." Sutler sneered as Virgil clenched his teeth. "Behold, Lords and Representatives!" He gestured to the podium on the other side of the great doors. Ethridge and Heyer entered, dragging an unconscious Ion between them. The young Methuselah was bound in silver shackles and bleeding from multiple wounds. He had succumbed to his injuries thanks to the generous amount of silver in the ammunition used on him, effectively rendering him as weak as any Terran in his situation.

"This vampire and I say vampire because that what he truly is, set off a device of Lost Technologies that not only destroyed the Gates of Parliament, but also took the life of Her Majesty, Queen Esther I. He is also guilty of the murder of the Lord Chief of Justice and the attempted murder of Draco Dascomb, a Lord Privy Seal. We were most fortunate to be prepared to deal with his kind; else he might have succeeded in his mission and killed us all!"

"Are you seriously accusing the emissary of the Empire of this heinous crime?" demanded Lady Victoria Ceres, the Home Secretary. "Absurd!" she nearly shrieked, her eyes blazing.

"Yes, there, my Lords and Representatives! There, you see it!" Sutler declared triumphantly. "That is the nature of those who your Queen sought to protect. They deceived her. Her naive belief in coexistence cost her everything. We cannot allow it to destroy our country along with our monarch!"

"Calm yourself," Integra whispered to her companion. "Do not give him another excuse."

"The House of Manchester has served the Throne of Roses for generations, centuries even," Virgil countered. "Do not cast aspirations on race based on an individual, an individual who has not yet been proven guilty."

"Did not your sister do the same thing?" Sutler countered, "Did not your sister say that all humans were targets? Even to the point she held the Pope hostage? To the point of Rebellion?"

Lord Walsh was silent, momentarily finding himself caught in a sea of memories from a time of great sorrow for the Albian Methuselah. When the previous Queen Bridget II had made known her illness would result in death, she left Albion temporarily under the charge of Mary Spencer, the Governor of Londinium. After Mary, who was under the belief that the Methuselah were nothing more than bloodsucking monsters, had slaughtered the Methuselah rebels of Belfast, Vanessa believed the same fate would befall the Methuselah of the Ghetto unless she responded with even more violence. Her despair and anger brought her to the point she held her own blood brother at gunpoint.

When he spoke again, it was with cold determination, both to keep himself and the situation under control.

"What proof do you have that the Count of Memphis has committed these crimes?" Virgil demanded.

* * *

Abel began to struggle as another hand over his mouth joined the one holding his arm. He nearly used his own superhuman strength to free himself.

"Quiet! Quiet!" a familiar voice repeated until the priest stopped struggling. "I'm going to let you go now, but you need to keep silent, understand?"

Abel nodded his head, twice.

It took him a moment to regain his composure to recognize the woman from the bed and breakfast, currently garbed in navy blue trench coat with a sheathed skean strapped to her belt. Upon her lapel was a crest with a woman's hand clutching a broadsword rising from a lake.

"Miss Ruth? What are you doing here?"

"Me? I should be asking _you_ that, Father Nightroad."

"Eh? How did you know my-?"

"Honestly," Ruth cut him off. "One night in Albion and you've already gotten yourself in trouble. If you needed to get to Parliament or to see Her Majesty for that matter, you should have said something during your stay. Tsk, tsk, tsk," she teased. "To answer your question, I already knew who you and your associate were from the moment I first met you two."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"_Allwissend bin ich nicht; doch viel ist mir bewisst. _(4)" she quoted in fluent Germanic. "As I said earlier last night, you never asked." She smiled for a moment, then her expression hardened. "But to more important matters, I'm going to get you inside Parliament, without the notice of the Knights or the Bobbies."

"Not to seem ungrateful, but why are you doing this?" Father Nightroad stammered.

"My loyalty to Her Majesty, the Queen, and my loyalties to the Order of the Round Table. Either or both."

"So that symbol is-?" his gaze fell to the pinned crest.

"Correct, Father. Allow me to formally introduce myself; I am Dame Ruth McArthur, the Vice Representative to the Duchy of Mercia, and Vice Chairman of the Albian branch of the Order of the Round Table." She swept a low bow, but straightened quickly. "Come, this way."

They turned and trotted quickly down the narrow alleyway.

"My bed and breakfast is actually a safe haven for Her Majesty," she continued over her shoulder, not turning to look back at him. "And to those who are loyal to her and a meeting place for the Round Table."

They entered a doorway at the side of the one of the buildings and immediately began to proceed down into a stairwell.

"I've never heard Esther mention any of this before," he asked, both puzzled and curious.

"Our order has been around for a very long time, Father Nightroad. Even before the Armageddon. We are some of the few who actually know what really happened before and after Armageddon, not the fables the Church tells." She paused for a moment. "But then, I understand you too know what the Vatican says is not really so, don't you, former Lieutenant-Colonel Abel Nightlord?"

Abel stopped cold on the descending staircase. "How-?"

"I said I was in Her Majesty's service. Did you think I was not in the confidence of those who serve her as well? Would I be taking you to her now if I did not know who and, more importantly, what you were?" She began to go down into the darkness again. Abel followed her as much out of curiosity as out of a desire to see Esther. They reached the bottom of the staircase and entered a large open room, almost like an abandoned warehouse or factory floor. There were crates and equipment standing dormant. She began weaving through them toward an opening at the far end of the room, where light was bleeding through the edges of a doorway.

"You seem to know things that few humans do. But may I ask, does Esther know-?"

"I believe that is your story to tell her."

"Thank you."

"Ah, here we are!" She pulled open the large wooden door with a grunt and stepped into the daylight. Abel's eyes did not have to adjust, so he was immediately able to see the low wharf and the small, sleek power boat looking out of place in this part of the city. A man stood next to it, wrapped in a heavy woolen coat and cap. He had a ruddy complex and sharp hazel eyes. A white streak of hair poked out from amidst the otherwise auburn hair that shown from under the cap.

"Jerry!"

"Hey Momotaro (5)." He smiled, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her lightly on the lips. "What took so long?"

"I had to pick up a friend." She pointed her thumb at the priest in question as Abel gave a sheepish wave.

Jerry's face blanched at the sight of the AX Agent. He knew who the man was from a time he wished he could forget, a time that just seeing this stupid priest brought back horrid memories of the monster he once was, a monster that he had made certain to destroy...

He turned abruptly and strode toward the bow of the ship. "We're wasting time here," he barked over his shoulder "Get onboard."

Abel looked from Jerry's retreating back to Ruth's barely concealed grimace. She sighed, shrugged and waved Father Nightroad toward the boat. They boarded quickly and the small tugboat was cast off. The tension in the air was palpable. Abel wandered from the stern forward to the helm.

"You look like someone familiar," he said to the Albian Marine staring straight ahead. "May I ask, are you aquatinted with a man named Brother Stephen?"

Jerry's hazel eyes glared down at the priest, so much so Abel flinched at the sight. "That man is long dead. I made certain of that." he said flatly. "I killed him when he went after my wife and nearly killed my daughter." his voice broke at the last word, as he looked upon his gloved hands as if they had bloodstains on them.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Abel apologized. "I understand how you feel."

"I'm not here to give you my confession, Father. I'm here to get you to Parliament before those -" he said a word that wasn't appropriate in any form of pleasant conversation that described relations outside of marriage. "- traitors take control and kill us all."

"_Ab honesto virum bonum nihil deterret_, (6)" Abel quoted. The priest nodded slightly and returned to his seat at the stern of the craft.

Ruth was staring straight ahead. "He doesn't like to be reminded of his time in the Inquisition," she said without looking at Abel. "It wasn't pleasant for anyone."

"He was an-?" Father Nightroad looked down at his gloved hands, feeling the blood he had spilt on them for a moment as well. "No wonder he looked familiar."

"Former Inquisitorial Officer Brother Stephen, code name: _Il Lupus_.(7)" She sighed. "He was the first and only deserter to have come out alive."

"'Deserter?' I thought he was considered a hero from the official report that I heard."

"Indeed? And how did you hear it then?"

"A cult rose up in Prague and it gained many followers. They eventually became violent and held clergymen, including a bishop, hostage. The Inquisition came on their behalf and nearly fell into a trap had it not been for Brother Stephen. After ordering a retreat, he saved the hostages with just a sword. After the incident, he disappeared and was never heard from again. Or, at least," Abel looked up at Ruth's profile, "that's how the Bohemians tell it."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Father," she said looking him in the eye for the first time. "But that wasn't the case. Brother Michael, the former Vice-Chief of the Inquisition at that time ordered that the city of Prague be cleansed, be it man, woman or child. They weren't going to save the hostages; they were going to kill them along with the cult."

Abel gasped. "I knew the Inquisition was... I knew they held strong-arm tactics... but to kill those in the Faith…"

"They were going to say that the cult had already killed the hostages and those in the city. Word got to him," she nodded toward her husband, "of their intentions and he ordered them to put a halt to their plans. Bother Michael, however, went by the Old Testament belief of cleansing by bloodshed and accused Brother Stephen of 'heresy' and attempted to kill him on the spot. Jerry, I mean Brother Stephen, fighting by defense, killed him and ordered the Inquisition to retreat as he saved the hostages. After that he left for Albion since it was the only human state that didn't accept the Vatican's authority."

Father Nightroad stared at the Marine's back with a new appreciation for the connections in their past. The tug then turned abruptly and slowed as it came about to port and passed under the a low bridge that turned in to a large tunnel. At the end of the darkness was a small dock, with multiple pipes leading away from the chamber and a small door inset at the far end of the dock. They scampered from the boat and trotted toward the doorway with great urgency.

"You can get to Parliament from here without being seen," she explained.

"Too late for that," said an urbane voice from behind the small door as it opened.

Jerry swung a lantern in the direction of the voice. It was then they all noticed the blood on the dock.

Vampire blood.

"Ion's been here," Abel whispered.

"I'm more interested in who's still here," the Marine declared, pulling his Roman Jericho M13 _Dies Irae_, fully loaded with 512 Maxima rounds, from his belt.

"Oh, bugger!" Ruth swore as she recognized the figure that was spying on them.

It was Lewis Stone standing before the door that led to Parliament..

"Not another step, traitor!" Jerry said in a cold flat voice as he aimed his weapon at the Earl of Leicester's head.

* * *

"We have caught the killer in the very act!" Sutler proclaimed. "He murdered of the Lord Chief of Justice as we tried to prevent him from setting off the explosive and he nearly killed Draco Dascomb, who lies wounded this very moment from that vicious attack." Sutler held aloft Ion's scimitar, which bore the Fortuna family crest of the Unicorn Rampant upon the hilt, and the blade covered in blood.

The room exploded in to chaos. Voices protesting in disagreement, but others shouting in support of Sutler. Victoria made to leap toward the end of the chamber, but Integra held her back. "No," she urged. "This has to play out on its own. Trust me," she hissed urgently to the enraged Methuselah.

"We have sufficient evidence of these claims," the Duke of Cornwall declared. "This matter has settled. We have more important business to attend to, Lords and Representatives. We must find ourselves a new leader before their kind invades and our country collapses!"

At this, the shouting died down quickly to a disturbed murmur.

"'Find ourselves a new leader?'" the Earl of Essex stammered.

"What do you mean, 'invaded'?" Representative Anne queried.

"The Queen is no longer. She was murdered by this vampire, it being one of the highest members of the Imperial Aristocracy. What do you think they will do when they find out that we have captured him, now that the Queen is dead?"

There was a collective gasp in the chamber. Virgil ground his teeth in frustration, but said nothing.

"She is dead and we must accept that," Mr. Ethridge declared, turning all eyes to the other podium where he held Ion's slumped form next to him.

"A tragedy, that" added Mr. Heyer on the other side of Ion, although in this moment, he didn't appear particularly upset.

"But before we grieve, we must select a Lord Protector." Ethridge continued. "The Lord Protector shall rule in place of Her Majesty, the late Queen, until we find a suitable heir to claim the throne. As such, we wish to declare, Lord Chancellor Sutler, as the Lord Protector of Albion,"

"As th' Lord of Appeal haes state'd, we also wis' to declaere th' Duke of Cornwall as Lord Protector," Mr. Heyer agreed.

"You cannot do this!" Lord Walsh avowed, finding his voice at last. "No one can become Lord Protector without approval from both Houses or the Prime Minister. This act is nothing more than an act of high treason against, not only our liege, but the whole nation of Albion!"

"Unless both Houses and the Prime Minister agree to select a Lord Protector, Duke of Cornwall, you are ineligible to sit upon the Throne of Roses," Dame Ann of the Duchy of Mercia declared.

"Very well," Sutler smiled as if this law was just an obstacle that could be easily removed. "We shall put it to the vote. My Lords, you know how dangerous it is for a country to be without leadership. How much more dangerous is it now that our Queen has been murdered by an Imperial assassin? Do you not see the forces gathering against us? The Empire merely awaits the word of this foul traitor that the deed was done to descend upon us. And what of the ones amongst who would sympathize with them living in our very midst? And if we do not somehow succumb to invasion and sedition, will we not be ground under the heel of the Vatican, as they impose martial law here under the pretext of keeping order? We are in a fight for our very existence, My Lords! How can you ask Albion to fight without a leader? Who else can do this job? How else is prepared and willing to do anything to save Albion? Are there any among you who can offer a name who will do more to protect this country that I love more than my own life? Do any among you offer a reason not declare we, our Speaker and Chancellor, as a rightful Lord Protector?"

The disturbed murmur ignited into verbal chaos again.

* * *

I dreaded the decision that awaited me on the other side of that door. As I stood in the darkness of the tunnel that led from Parliament, I knew that if I opened the door and found one of the Queen's allies there, I would either have to complete the mission I had undertaken as a Tudor Knight or fulfill my obligation to act in the best interests of Albion as I was charged as Lord Chamberlain. Strange how they had seemed one in the same not so long.

I had my reasons for joining the Knights; now they are nothing more than excuses. Originally, I joined the Knights because of my anger for both the Church and the those damnable monsters known as vampires. Vampires took away the only person that gave me human affection, the affection that bastard of a father and bitch of a mother should have given me, but never did. The Catholic Church brainwashed my brother into joining their ranks and gave excuse after excuse for taking the lives fellow humans for nothing but personal gain. The Knights gave me a necessary release from my anger by fighting them and striving to take my vengeance against them.

However, I cannot stand by any longer as they plan to kill more of their own fellow Albians on the excuse that the ends justify the means. Not only are they killing innocents, but they are allying themselves with an Enemy that would, not doubt, betray them in the end. They were blinded by their own greed, as I was blinded by my anger. They cannot see through the lies of that _creature_ they called "_Mein Herr_." I've never seen _him_, but I've met a few of those who were on the higher-ups in the Order of Rosenkreuz and I can see _his_ nature through them.

Adam Sutler first heard of the Order from that dark, mysterious man named Isaak Fernando von Kämpfer who had appeared in the midst of one of our meetings. We nearly killed him on the spot, but Sutler ordered that we should hear him out. He offered us power, financial aid and lost technologies in exchange for the death of a queen we so hated. How could we refuse such a perfect offer? Sutler and the others fell under his spell; yet I saw in those jet black eyes a devil and we had exchanged our souls to him.

Not long after that we had many other meetings with those in the Order. After each meeting, our targets became less specific. We longer targeted just the Vatican and the vampires and their supporters, now we included our fellow Albian humans. However misguided they may have been, we were sworn to protect them. Sutler was too blinded by his lust for power. He had forgotten the true purpose of the Knights.

I grew sick with all the unnecessary killings of innocent men, women and children. The Knights have become nothing more than power hungry killers, worse than the vampires we hunted. I cannot give any more excuses for staying with them, but I cannot leave without the risk of death. If only there was another way to finish this. Then I realize as I hear my "foes" on the other side of the door that it's...

"Too late for that," I acknowledge.

Now with an Inquisitorial gun aimed at my forehead, faced with something that would bring the swift wings of Death unto me, I now question whether my life was nothing more than an excuse.

"Not another step, traitor!" one of them declares. I recognize the man, he serves as a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Albian Marines under Colonel Spencer, but from what I've heard, he has a blood-stained past worse than mine. The woman next to him was the former heir to the Duchy of Mercia, who had given up her position and social status to marry him.

My eyes widened at the sight of the priest from last night. How could he be alive after facing Mr. Creedy, the muscle of our Knights? If he was alive, that must surely mean that Mr. Creedy is dead.

Now I have a choice, as I am faced with Death. To either kill these "foes" in the name of the now corrupted Tudor Rose, or surrender and aid them in their goal.

I make my choice knowing that Death lies at the end of both decisions and I choose what I know in my heart is right. If only I had listened to it from the beginning and maybe I might have been spared from all the torment I caused both myself and so many others.

"Wait!" I yell. "I can help you."

* * *

"Those fools! Where do their loyalties lie?" Ceres whispered irritably to "Lord" Hellsing as the assembly around them was filled with conflicting and angry voices.

"All shall come full circle in due time, Victoria. Keep the faith."

"Vote now!" Etheridge declared.

"Rig't now!" Heyer added.

"My fellow citizens, I know you are grieved by this situation," Sutler called out over the shouting. "I know that you all loved your Queen. Would she want you to behave in such a way? Would she want you to leave her country with leadership? I can think of no more disrespectful way to treat Her Majesty's memory than to let the multitude of its enemies tear asunder her beloved country because her countrymen could not put aside their differences in a time of crisis and allow the leadership necessary to save it have the power required to do it!"

"That's it," snarled Victoria, "now I'm going to rip out his lying throat!"

"No!" Integra countered. "How many more Methuselah will die if you act now?"

* * *

"I will admit to killing vampires and priests, but I also helped kill fellow Albians in the name of the Tudor Rose. Now, I have helped kill the Queen. I admit I hated her, but it was because I never understood her. How can I atone for that?" I asked miserably as I slumped to my knees and hung my head. They surrounded me, but they hadn't killed me. Yet.

"The Knights have failed in their attempt to kill the Queen," the priest replied. "You can atone by helping us."

"They failed?" I ask, stupefied. I lift my head and stare in to those winter blue eyes. "No human can survive a C4 and Thermite Napalm bomb that responds to their genetic signature. How is she-?"

"They killed an automation decoy, it wasn't her."

"Automation dolls cannot carry human DNA, they are machines, not flesh," I argued.

"Only if they are programmed to carry DNA," the priest countered. "I recall that when the Duchess of Moldova was supposedly 'killed' she used an automation with her DNA to escape death."

"You will be given leniency if you help us, but you will have to pay for your crimes of espionage and the conspiracy to commit treason," the Mercian Representative told me.

"I will help you. Nothing can be worse than the death I would have earned at the hands of the Knights."

"You don't know how wrong you are," the Marine replied in a tone filled with bitterness.

"I also have names of those in the Order of Rosenkreuz. If I can be given security I might be able to disclose some important information about them."

"First things first. Let's get to Parliament."

* * *

"My Lords and Representatives, let us vote, unless…" Sutler addressed the Scotian, "Prime Minster Stuart, are you willing to speak on behalf for your Houses to select a Lord Protector in place of Her Majesty, the late Queen?"

Sutler was already so intoxicated with the power that he was so close to achieving that he didn't notice the proximity of the gun barrel at the back of his head.

"Why should he when _you_ had nearly killed her," an icy voice asked, laced with fury from behind him.

"I will not declare ye anythin' but guilty of treason!" James Stuart shouted. "Father Nightroad, arrest 'im!"

All the assembled Lords and Representatives seemingly shouted simultaneously in shock and disbelief as Sutler tried to take a step back and realized at once what was pressing against his skull.

"Father Nightroad?" he echoed uncertainly. "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"I am an AX enforcement officer for the Vatican's Ministry of Foreign Affairs. It will take more than a warlock to subdue me," the priest assured him. "You are under arrest Lord Chancellor Sutler on the charge of acts of high treason!"

"Apparently this priest hasn't the faintest idea of what has occurred. Father," he called out to crowd rather than to the man behind him with a rather large revolver to his head, "we just apprehended the vampire who had killed Her Majesty by means most foul, surely you would like to arrest him and put away these charges of so-called 'treason,' of which are false and have-"

"We've heard enough of your lies for one day, Lord Chancellor," declared Abel in a cold, deadly voice that promised a swift demise. "If you want to keep that forked tongue in your head, I suggest you keep it behind your teeth _now_. (8)"

"'Ere now!" Heyer shouted. "You con't talk to 'Is Lordship lik thot, you Vatican dog!"

"Quiet, Mr. Heyer!" Sutler rounded on his associate. "Let us not upset him just now. My life would seem to depend on it." He took a breath and continued to speak in his composed manner. "If you are so convinced we are the traitor and not the vampire... then on what basis? If this is not a false accusation- and no doubt which it is- then you must have conclusive evidence of our guilt. Do you have such evidence, and if so, present it!"

"What a bold liar he is," Integra seethed.

"Release the 'vampire' and let him speak, Sutler," Lord Walsh called out from across the chamber. "Let this body compare the supporting evidence with his testimony."

"I'm afraid we can't do that. It would put all the Lords and Representatives here in danger. Do you want that, Lord President of the Council? This vampire gave us a full confession while we interrogated it. It is an extremist who wants war with us humans and it stated, very clearly that it killed Her Majesty so it may gloriously return to the Empire as a hero. It used a clever contraption of Lost Technologies to have the gates of Parliament blown up when she arrived, and this-" He took a data cube out of his pocket and on the side was the Albian Royal Crest. "-held a data file of Her Majesty's DNA, which it no doubt stole from the Palace! Also, it thinks itself worthy of calling Her Majesty by name!"

"A mere confession obtained by ones captors isn't enough. We of the House of Manchester want to hear this 'vampire' speak this 'confession.'"

"We agree with the Lord President. We want to hear his confession, not yours," the Countess of Cardiff concurred.

"The time for confessions and investigations has passed!" Ethridge retorted. "This vampire killed Her Majesty and the decision for Lord Protector now lies in the hands of the Prime Minister!"

The large room could barely contain the noise which ensued.

"Allow me to speak, assembled Lords," James yelled over the shouting.

"Quiet!" thundered Conroy, the shrill voice of Home Secretary Ceres calling for silence added in to the mix along with the cold flat voice of Virgil Walsh. It accomplished its purpose. Every tongue was stilled and every eye turned toward the Prime Minister.

"I, James Stuart, Prime Minister of Albion, declare that Adam Sutler, Lord Chancellor and Speaker for the House of Lords, shall _not_ become Lord Protector."

"Why say such things Prime Minister Stuart?" Sutler countered, though seconds later he would wished he hadn't.

"The Prime minister cannot select a Lord Protector because we, Queen Esther I of Albion, are still alive," a soprano voice rang out through the silent chamber.

It was a voice that everyone in attendance had heard before, even to the one who wasn't a respected voice of the government. The voice was commonly heard here in times all thirds of the government were to meet.

The mahogany doors behind the throne opened to reveal a woman who was supposedly dead. Escorting her was the green-haired, red-robed younger sibling of the Manchester Earldom, as well as a the handmaidens that had originally vanished, standing on either side of the Liege of Albion.

The majority of the Lords and Representatives released exclamations of shock and wonder, their eyes opened wide as if they saw Lazarus rising from Death.

Finally among the quietude, the Viscount of Druitt's fiercely shaking voice arose from nowhere, "Her Majesty the Queen!"

All Abel Nightroad could do was stare. Now, after two long years of denying himself her light, he was now seeing her before him, alive, real. It was then he realized that his dreams of her were more flawed than he realized; his mind had never done justice to what his eyes were seeing before him now. The scarlet red tresses of her hair... the sweet look of her cream-white skin... her soft pink rose-like lips... and those beautiful deep blue lapis-lazuli eyes that took his breath away... they were still the same, but after two years, her beauty had been enhanced, and it shown perfectly in that golden-lined black velvet dress she wore. He felt strange, even though he was supposed to look after the lying monster that nearly took her away from him forever. Still, in that moment, he felt..._whole_. He could feel his icy heart melt and could hear it beating once more, his blood pulsing hot through his veins. It was almost as if the void in his heart was completely gone. He was perfect, now that he had seen her again. And now he knows he can never leave her, never again will he deny himself his star's hope-filled light.

"Her Majesty...? H-How are you-" Sutler stammered as the Queen took her rightful place in Parliament; upon the golden throne that was rightfully hers.

"We are in fine health, Lord Chancellor Sutler, would you not have it so?" the Queen replied with a trace of sarcasm as she smiled ironically. "It is true we are saddened that you attempted to murder us and claim the Albian Throne for yourself. We are disappointed, angered even, but very much alive."

"We can explain, Your Majesty. We thought Your Highness had perished when the Gates were destroyed, we thought that-"

"You would take what rightfully belongs to the House of Blanchett for the House of Cornwall?" the woman tilted her head slightly, but there was an affected ring in her voice. "Do not think we hadn't heard your claim to the Throne. That alone is treason, Lord Sutler, as is the conspiring with traitors to attempt to assassinate the Sovereign of Albion."

"Why does Her Majesty think that we, the Lord Chancellor and Duke of Cornwall, would attempt to murder you with bombs of lost technologies?"

"How very interesting, Lord Sutler, that you should have such knowledge," Esther remarked. "We did not say how we were nearly killed, but yet you seem to know already. Fortunately, we were not present at that time." She turned to the crimson robed Methuselah at her left. "Lady Walsh,"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Speak your testimony."

"Indeed, my Queen." Vanessa bowed, and then stepped forward. "Lords and Representatives of the Albian Parliament, I speak before you all as an Albian Noblewoman. My testimony is this: five days before this date, Her Majesty had ordered me to create a decoy, in case an assassination was to occur. The decoy was an automation doll that would not only resemble Her Majesty in appearance and voice, but also hold fragments of Her Majesty's DNA. I ordered a skilled programmer to program the doll so that it would resemble Her Majesty's behavior and actions. When the Gates of Parliament were destroyed, the doll was in the place of Her Majesty so that those who were attempting to kill her would believe they had succeeded and thereby make the attempt to take the Throne. As such, the only one who attempted to do so would be her would-be killer. The one who spoke was the one who claimed himself to be Lord Protector. I hereby accuse Lord Chancellor Sutler of the crime of treason and attempted assassination against the Albian Queen!"

"You ask a vampire to testify against me?" Sutler demanded, "I would like to hear a testimony from a human before I am convicted with lies!"

"We would recommend that you speak your testimony, Father Nightroad; after all, you're human as well. You are the only one in this room that knows of what has truly occurred and can speak." Esther gave Abel a small smile that took his breath away. He returned her smile then hardened his visage as he spoke every word laced with conviction and a noticeable anger that everyone in the chamber, including Sutler, dared not to interrupt.

"Lords and Representatives of this august body of Albion, I speak before you, not as a priest of the Vatican, but as a former citizen of Albion. Last night, my companion, the Methuselah currently being held against his will, and I arrived in hopes of warning Her Majesty of an attempt against her life. However, he was attacked by the very men who hold him now, who planted the technological bomb at the Gates of Parliament. I tried to save him, but a warlock, yes, a warlock, the late Lord Chief of Justice, a Tudor Knight, attempted to kill me in hopes of removing witnesses. I managed to survive; however, I believed I was too late when the Gates were destroyed until I realized the 'corpse,' of the 'late Queen,' wasn't Her Majesty, but an automation doll, made to look like Her Majesty. With the help of another witness who aided me in my arrival to Parliament, I was originally going to arrest Sutler who led these men, and hopefully prove to all of you that Her Majesty was not dead. The verification of my words lies in the fact that Her Majesty is before you all, alive and well. I, too, am pleased that she is alive. Now let it be known to all of Albion that the man who had attempted to take her life, was the very one whom attempted to claim her Throne!"

The assembly of Parliament erupted again, screaming such phrases as "traitor," "murderer," and "down with the Tudor Knights!" Everything that Adam Sutler worked for two years was now crumbling before him. His supporters in Parliament had abandoned him. He was being convicted by the testimony of a vampire and a priest, the very beings that he so loathed. He had been convinced that the Albian people would side with him when they realized who the true enemy was once the Queen was removed. How could it be that the Queen was still before them, casting her spells once more upon these deceived fools? If he was going to lose everything... he would make certain that he brought down that witch along with him...

"I have one question I must ask, Your Majesty," Sutler calmly addressed the Queen, concealing his murderous intent well. "You who led the Partisans against that tyrant vampire and eventually became a saint because you killed that evil beast. Why do you now think that vampires can co-exist in 'peace' with your fellow humans?"

"Lord Chancellor Sutler and my Lords and Representatives of Albion, listen to what we must say." The Queen rose from the golden throne and addressed everyone in Parliament; from the highest of Lords to the lowest of Representatives, from both Terran and Methuselah, to all the humans of her kingdom. It was the truth that had to be known; that all were equal all were human, even if it meant soiling her name by revealing her bloodstained past. The Queen was not speaking like a monarch, but as a fellow human with her own faults and her own experiences, and with a ardent passion that made her light burn so bright that almost everyone in the room could see it with their hearts.

"Five years ago in István, not only was the blood of enemies shed, but the blood of our allies. In István, it was a tragic battle. At that time, I thought it couldn't be avoided. These deaths could not be helped. We had to fight, not only myself but my fellow Partisans, for our lives. That is why we took up swords. After three years had passed in my time in the AX and the Empire, I saw that that battle _could_ have been avoided. I met Gyula Kadar, the Marquis of Hungaria during that bloody day. He was an enemy to me. He believed he could not live without killing Terrans. But what he believed was not the truth. No one had to die that day. Violence escalated from the smallest of misunderstandings. Gyula and I both believed that one of us had to die. It wasn't just us. On that day, those who fought on both sides were just like him. Were just like me. People who laugh, cry, hate and love just like us.

_"Lilith..."_ Abel saw in his mind's eye his lost love's smiling presence over the throne of his star, _"in this day and age... there is yet a girl who believes as you did."_

"I asked myself repeatedly for over three years why my family had to die. Why did I have to fight? Could I have survived any other way? Why did I have to kill? Couldn't I have lived without staining my hands with blood? I wanted to know these things. Even now, I still don't know much about the world. I still have my 'whys.' Why do my fellow humans, both Terran and Methuselah, keep killing each other? I don't have the answers. But I have learned one thing: I have learned that... all this fighting and killing is wrong! I then swore that my new goal was to help create a world where both humans and vampires can exist without fear or hate. As your Queen, I swore to use my power to take what was wrong with the world and fix it!"

"So, what more have you to say, Lord Speaker?" Esther asked while jutting her chin toward the mastermind of her attempted destruction.

"Yes, I have learnt…" Sutler showed no sign of fear. Instead his lips twisted up as if rejoicing that his real intentions had finally been understood. "I have learnt that you have been brainwashed by these foul leeches! All Gyula did was manipulate you in death as all the rest of them have done! Now you think you can brainwash these people, too? You think you can deceive me? If only there was hope as you say, but if you are committed to follow this path, then I cannot exist anymore in this world you would create and... I will see to it... that...YOU CANNOT EXIST EITHER!"

And in a flash of motion, he set that plan in to action.

"""NO!"""

Next Chapter: Albian Reunion  
Avert not thine eyes

A/N: Now I know that you all are asking questions such as, "WTH just happened?" or "Is Esther going to die?" Sorry but that is the evil of the cllliiifffyyy. (Laughs maniacally.) Finally, after two months, I finish my chapter. I am SO Sorry for the lateness, but life gets in the way sometimes. My muses weren't acting as they normally do, and I was having a rather difficult time because I have terrible times with dialogue and action shots, but hopefully this long chapter will make up for the two month wait. I also got back from MGM/ Disney Hollywood Studios and Epcot and I rather enjoyed myself, **Jedi Skysinger**, **Naomi-chan** and I had a wonderful time and we even got to see Fantasmic! This was the first time Naomi and I saw the show and it was the climax of the evening. Well now that my chapter is finished we may yet be able to finish this "book," I call the "Londinium Arc," then move to what I call the "Franc Arc," AKA "Books" II and III. Only five more chapters to go and this "book." will be finished, but it won't be the end for Trinity Blood Revelations just yet!

A/N Updated: Yes, I unfortunately had to get rid of the _Cantarella/ The Borgias _crossover character Cesare Borgia. I asked **smcandy** about adding another crossover, her advice was that I had enough crossovers and OCs that I didn't need to add more of them. I took her advice and found an orginal Trinity Blood character made by the genius of Sunao Yoshida-sensei (RIP). Even though I miss Cesare, I fortunately found a similar character to him after reading Trinity Blood RAM Know Faith and RAM Judgement Day as well as Manga volumes X-XII. After **Jedi Skysinger** read the same material, we came to the conclusion that Antonio de Borgia y Borgia was a combination of Cesare Borgia's wit, intelligence and mindsent and Juan Borgia's overbearing, flamboyant personality. So I dropped Cesare and replaced him with Antonio. Please _kindly_ tell me whether or not I wrote him in character, because I have trouble with characters like that (dealing with Ayame from _Furuba_ and Tamaki from _Ouran High School Host Club _is bad enough. D'OH!) Note: there is also a _Black Butler _reference in the Vatican section of this chapter, hint: three words that begin with the prefix, "un." I hope I did a good job.

**Queen Esther's way speaking**-  
Esther, in this FF, has been ruling as the Albian Queen for two years now. Considering that she has been Queen for so long she had to develop decorum, formal speaking and royal responsiblities. Because this, Esther now has two different idenities, Esther the Partisan Warrior/ AX Agent and Esther the Queen of Albion. When she is speaking before Parliament, she speaks like the Queen of Albion, when she said her final speech at the end of the chapter she spoke as her true self (the Partisan Warrior/ AX Agent.) I used this technique so I could show the differences between these two identies. (Example: _Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace_Queen Amidala/ Padme Amidala.)

(1) Quoted from _Sententiae - _Sentences by Publilius Syrus. The translation in Latin is "Pardon one offence and you encourage the commission of many."

(2) Latin for "Hammer of God." The symbol for the Inquisitorial Department is a cross-shaped hammer and thunderbolts, which suits them so well. IMHO I think they're a bunch of hypocrites that claim they are doing "God's will," (which IMHO is a BS philosophy) while they take the lives of fellow humans. (Humans in this case being both Terrans and Methuselah.) Sorry, had to let out steam, Francesco and those hard-lined Inquisition dolts make my blood boil.

(3) Quoted from Romans 12: 19, written by the Apostle Paul.

(4) Quoted by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the quote in English is: "I do not know everything; still many things, I understand."

(5) Momotaro is a Japanese folklore hero who supposedly was born out of a peach, (hence his name, meaning "little peach.") and saved Japan from invading ogres with the help of three animal friends; a monkey, a dog and a bird. **Darth Tyronnius Shoelaces **calls **Jedi Skysinger **that quite often because of her love for peaches and her love for animals. (Note: If one wants to see what he looks like, look up _Ouran High School Host Club _Volume 13 by Bisco Hatori.)

(6) Quoted by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, the translation into English is: "Nothing deters a good man from doing what is honorable."

(7) Latin for "The Wolf." Each Inquisitor, as far as I know, have names that are given to them based off of their fighting prowess, such as Petros being called "Il Ruinate" or the "Wild Boar" because when he starts a fight he doesn't stop until he sees to it that he pulverizes his enemy.

(8) Indirect quote to _Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers _by J.R.R. Tolkien, the original quote was made by Gandalf to Wormtongue with: "...Be silent and keep your forked tongue behind your teeth."

I'd also like to give a warm thank you to **Aperio, dbzgtfan**, and to** Child-of-the-Dawn** for the recent reviews. ;)

Mysteriously Yours

ObsidianEmpress


	11. X: Albian Reunion

A/N: I'm sorry if it took me that long to update. I'm still trying to get my thoughts organized. But I finally got some inspiration after listening to music from various sources. Yes, I'll admit it, I'm a music lover. (Note: Listen to "My Immortal" for Esther's POV and then listen to "Bring Me To Life" for Abel's POV (c) Evanescence and for the final piece for Abel and Esther listen to "All I Need" by Within Temptation.) This chapter will also be hosting upcoming Romantic Fluff. (Squeal.) Warning: before the romantic fluff... (Cries) there are scenes that will no doubt bring tears to your eyes. Even I started crying while writing this! Here it is: Chapter X! (Oy! I can't believe I wrote SO many chapters!) Thank you all for your patience. :)

**Chapter X: Albian Reunion**

_If all else perished, and he remained, I should continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn into a mighty stranger._  
- _Emily Brontë,_ Wuthering Heights

The morning snow had turned to ice by mid-afternoon.

The evidence of the previous blizzard that morning had vanished and sunlight streamed through the frosted glass. Buckingham's formal meeting hall, in which the Privy Council normally assembled, was vacant save a handsome blonde man, garbed in formal white and black robes, and a beautiful Milanese woman garbed in robes of crimson, or rather a blue tinged see-through hologram of that woman.

True to her word, Cardinal Caterina Sforza had made contact with Buckingham Palace and was currently speaking with the Earl of Manchester, Virgil Walsh, about what had truly occurred in Albion. In normal circumstances, a Cardinal speaking with a vampire was unthinkable, even treasonous; however, times had changed and vampires, now properly called Methuselah, had equal rights with normal humans. This had been made possible because of the Holy Father, Cardinal Caterina, the Empress of the Tzara Methuselute, and more importantly, the monarch in question.

"So we find one grain of truth, the Knights of Tudor had attempted to assassinate the Queen. Thankfully, they failed to kill her," Caterina replied to Virgil's news, letting her concern be known. "If this is the case, then what we had seen was a half-truth, one that would no doubt lead us to doing the unthinkable."

"Indeed, Your Eminence. Her Majesty was attacked and was presumed dead for a time. If weren't for her wit and intelligence, and the loyalty of her people, she wouldn't have survived.

Otherwise, we would be in the midst of another Terran-Methuselah conflict of Post-Armageddon days."

"We still might," Caterina cut in. "Cardinal di Medici is still planning on unleashing the Inquisition's full might against Albion, even if the Queen is still alive. Fortunately, his reason is no longer justified. Let it be known that Albion has the full support of the Ministry of State."

"That is fortunate. You have no idea how it lightens my spirits, Your Eminence," Virgil put his hand over his heart and bowed his head slightly.

"May I ask, Your Excellency, were the culprits just the Knights of Tudor, or was there another...?"

"I bear your same suspicions Lady Sforza; I sense that the _third world power_ had equal involvement. Adam Sutler, the Knights' chief whip, whispered their common phrase before he drew his last breath."

"_Igne Natura Renevantur Integra_... (1) So, it's been two years... Contra Mundi has now made his move," Caterina remarked. Her razor-glint eyes sparkled beneath her monocle. After her visage had calmed, she spoke again as nonchalantly as possible: "Tell me, what happened to Count of Memphis and Father Nightroad?"

A brief hesitation flashed across Virgil's composed visage. "The priest and the Earl... well, they were…"

* * *

"_So, what more have you to say, Lord Speaker?" Esther asked while jutting her chin toward the mastermind of her attempted destruction._

"_Yes, I have learnt..." Sutler showed no sign of fear. Instead his lips twisted up as if rejoicing that his real intentions had finally been understood. "I have learnt that you have been brainwashed by these foul leeches! All Gyula did was manipulate you in death as all the rest of them have done! Now you think you can brainwash these people, too? You think you can deceive me? If only there was hope as you say, but if you are committed to follow this path, then I cannot exist anymore in this world you would create and..." the Lord Speaker's fist that was upon his heart then flicked to his neck, "I will see to it... that...YOU CANNOT EXIST EITHER!" And, in a flash of motion, he set that plan in to action._

_Abel's superhuman eyesight caught Sutler going over the rail of the podium with the speed of a Methuselah. The AX Agent then realized, a little too late, that when Esther revealed herself his gun had lowered from Sutler's head to his torso. The outcome of Abel's choices, shooting him or, worse yet, going into 80% capacity Crusnik form and slicing Sutler, caused him to hesitate. There were too many people, both Terrans and Methuselah, in this room that could become collateral damage should he either use his revolver or _them_. Besides, if all of Parliament saw him in Crusnik form, Esther's reputation in the Church would be severely damaged, as well as Caterina's._

_That hesitation allowed Sutler to go from mid-air above the railing to land upon the aisle. In his hand was a stiletto knife, almost resembling a surgical scalpel, with its blade aimed for Abel's love. As Sutler reached the center of the chamber, Abel then made his move. With unwavering steadiness and superior speed, Abel caught up to the Lord Chancellor and grabbed him round the shoulders with his left arm and with his right hand; he nearly grabbed the foul knife that was meant for Esther's destruction. The Chancellor had no idea how that priest caught up to him, but when he saw the black sleeved arm attempting to bar his weapon from its sacred task of freeing the Albian people from her spell, his hand temporarily had mind of its own. He flipped the blade in his clutch and delved it into the first thing it came in contact with: the priest's stomach._

_Abel felt the sharp jab of pain, but it wasn't enough to stop him from holding onto Sutler. Using his free hand, Abel grabbed his opponent's neck and jerked him upright, deliberately slowing them both down so that Her Majesty's guards could see what was occurring. No human eye in the chamber could see what was in the works between the priest and the disgraced lord. All they could feel were drafts made by the movements of the combatants and the sounds of clashing limbs. Then suddenly, right before the Queen, the traitor and the mysterious priest materialized. With no hesitation, the Queen's handmaidens, as well as the forest green-haired Methuselah noblewoman, moved in a flash of blue, gold and red and a barrage of bullets echoed throughout the chamber._

_The black clad whip of the Tudor Knights then fell to his knees, before falling completely to the emerald green carpet before the Queen's dais, crumpling like London Bridge of Olden Days. He had been shot numerous times thanks to the quick minds and hands of her most loyal guards. Crimson blood then seeped from his prone form, from both the bullet holes and his mouth._

"_This is just... the beginning..." he sputtered, his words garbled by the blood. "Once... _Mein Herr_ has unleashed... his wrath...our nation will be_ ... Igne Natura Reneva_..." Like Brutus and Cassias_ _(2) before him, Adam Sutler earned the reward of traitors. _

_Esther stood stunned and unmoving, shocked in to silence. Her lapis lazuli eyes were glued to the shattered form of the man who had attempted to kill her. She dared not look up because she knew what she would see when she did, dared not take in the image that she had seen before that had left the greatest scar upon her heart. It was only the sound that made her to do what she had refused to do._

_A long languid intake of breath, as painful to her ears as it was for the person slowly trying to expand their lungs despite the punctures in them, caused her to look up just in time to meet Abel's winter-lake like eyes, clouded with the most peculiar mixture of agony and relief, before he collapsed in a heap on his back. The moment of silence ended with the sound of the priest hitting the floor. _

_Chaos reigned in Parliament once again._

* * *

"If it weren't for the bravery of Father Nightroad, Her Majesty would have lost her life. The injuries he sustained were not only from the stab wound, but also from unintentional gun-shot wounds made by my sister and the handmaidens; however, he is currently in stasis. The Count of Memphis has a horrible case of silver poisoning. Fortunately, the poisoning didn't lead to his death, but he will remain human for a few more days until the silver is out of his system. They are both currently recovering in the medical wing of the Palace," Virgil informed the Cardinal.

"That is fortunate. But tell me, what of those whom were holding the Count of Memphis captive? Were they arrested?" Caterina asked.

"Unfortunately, no. Jasper Heyer, the Baron of Burnett, and Horace Ethridge, the former Lord of Appeal, escaped during Sutler's attack. As for Draco Dascomb, Viscount of Wolverhampton, the authorities caught up with him attempting to sneak out of the Royal London Hospital. Lewis Stone, Earl of Leicester, is currently in our custody, awaiting for his hearing. Seeley Creedy, the late Lord Chief of Justice, was found, as you may presume, dead in a nearby dustbin."

"So that leaves you two culprits to apprehend, Lord Walsh. Has general public received information about this?"

"The Albian Media has let out that Esther survived the explosion and the 'corpse' Scotland Yard retrieved was an automation. The media has also been notified that the previous terrorist attacks on the Ghetto, the London Bridge and St. Paul's as well as the assassination attempt were all the work of the Tudor Knights. Their popularity amongst the Terrans is certain to drop and, hopefully, true co-existence may once more exist amongst our races in Albion. The media has also been informed that the people must be on the lookout for Jasper Heyer and Horace Ethridge."

"That's good to hear. Tell me what of-" Caterina was cut off by the appearance of a second hologram, a disheveled Sister Kate.

"Your Eminence, I'd normally hate to interrupt your conversation, but His Holiness, or should I say Cardinal Francesco, has ordered that Albion be placed under Vatican Martial Law. The Inquisition Fleet has just left and is heading for Albion as we speak."

"What?" Caterina lost her composure at the audacity. She should have known that Francesco would take the opportunity to strike out at both His Holiness and the Accords when she wasn't looking. The action he had just taken would no doubt have the peace treaty between the Vatican and Albion up in flames. Not only that, but Francesco had proved to her that he would lash out at Alec behind her back to do so. What had angered Caterina even more was that Francesco was doing the very thing that the Enemy wanted him to do.

"Forgive me, Your Eminence, Your Excellency," Sister Kate bowed her head toward both the Cardinal and the Methuselah nobleman, "I know this is all short notice, but..."

"It's all right, Sister Scott." Virgil replied. "It's fortunate that we have learnt of the Ministry of Doctrine's intentions before they land their ships, so we may prepare ourselves. I think it's time that the Privy Council and the College of Cardinals meet together for the first time."

"I agree," Caterina said. "If there was ever a time for that, it would be now. I believe it would solve the issue at hand concerning the St. Paul's destruction, the so-called 'death' of the Queen and call off the Inquisition. May I ask, are you certain Her Majesty can handle something like this? Not that I doubt her political prowess, but something on this grand a scale has never occurred before in either the Vatican or Albion."

"I am certain Her Majesty can handle it. It would be wise to put our faith in her."

"Speaking of Her Majesty... what happened to her after Father Nightroad was wounded?"

"Her Majesty..." Virgil spoke hesitantly, "well, she..."

* * *

It has been two years.

Two years since I had last seen him... Two years since his death at my own hands... Two years that I wasted mourning him... Two years that I had believed him to be dead.

Now that he lies before me, wounded, broken and bleeding... because of me, once more.

That day comes back once again, as though it was only hours ago. The strong and bittersweet scent of roses and incense filled my nose. My hands were balled into small fists with my tearstained face pressing against the ebony of his coffin. My sorrowful pleas for forgiveness echoing the pain in my heart for my lost beloved, all that came back into mind from my memory.

_I did this... it's all my fault. Father... I got in the way and I killed you! I was helpless... I just stood there and watched it happen! You weren't meant t die like this... not in this place. I never... I never had the chance to repay you. All those times you saved my life. And now... now I never will! I'm so sorry. I'm hopeless... I'm useless... I couldn't save you! I couldn't do anything._

Ironic that this should be a replication of our last encounter and yet completely different. Instead of a sanctuary, I am in the medical wing of my own palace. Instead of a casket where the altar should have been as his resting place, he lies upon a soft mattress. Instead of opaque wood hiding his body and his face, a white sheet conceals him up to his chest and his face is oddly at peace, reminding me of that time when he... died. The smell of alcohol and peroxide fill my nose instead of the sweet perfume flowers and the rich scent of incense. I am at his side once again and yet he cannot hear me, nor can he respond, suffering from wounds that were on my account. This time, my face stained is with tears not only of sorrow, but of anger. At first I was angry because he had let himself get hurt, but it occurred to me that he could hardly engage that other side of himself in front of all of Parliament. He would not endanger them to help himself. But even as I answered that question, dozens of others took its place.

Where has he been... what has he been doing?

Was he injured all this time... in a coma or a healing trance again...?

Why didn't he return to me...?

Why didn't he just let me know he was alive if he couldn't come back...?

What was he trying to protect me from, if he was trying at all...?

Was he hiding from me, thinking himself an unworthy monster again...?

Was anything I ever said to him ever going to matter... ever going to get through that thick skull of his...?

Why is it that we hurt each other...?

What's wrong with us that we just can't be happy with one another...?

Why can't we just be together and be happy...?

What will he do when he wakes up this time...? Will he pursue him again?

Will he survive this time?

How many times will I have to live through this again?

And again?

And...

Again?

"Lady Esther," the quiet voice of Virgil Walsh, my closest friend and advisor, cut into my reverie, "the Privy Council is assembled and awaiting you."

Then I heaved a great sigh. "So there is my answer," I thought sadly. I gazed longingly one more time at Abel's visage, one that had haunted my dreams and memory, so quiet at the moment. "As long as there is more than me and thee in this world, we cannot be together in peace. (3)"

* * *

Twilight had descended upon the land.

It was an unusual time for the Privy Council to assemble. Most of their meetings normally took place during daylight hours. The only exceptions were emergency meetings called before dawn. As such, a council meeting at this time was a rarity, one that had never occurred before. A greater rarity was the knowledge that the College of Cardinals would attend this meeting as well.

Currently seated were the two noblewomen of Lancaster and Cardiff and the Scotian Prime Minister waiting with a sense of calm, despite the tension in the air being so thick it could have been seen by the human eye. Prime Minister James Stuart, the Duke of Edinburgh, was a devout Catholic. However, after the previous Pope Gregorio XXX caused great scandals within the Vatican for _publico habet concubiem,_ (4) and wasn't deposed for heresy. This caused James' faith in the Church to greatly waver, so much so that once he had publicly announced would become an Anglican, if the Pope wasn't removed from office. Such an action would have had James put to the stake for 'heresy' because he didn't share the beliefs of the Vatican. Having the whole Vatican meeting with a Privy Council session was indeed beyond stressful. As such the cherry wood staff in his clutch could have burst into flames from the friction of his elderly hands. The Countess of Oxford and "Lord" Privy Seal Integra Hellsing was a close friend of Cardinal Caterina since their college days. As such, she was not distressed at the thought of seeing her again, despite the circumstances. However, the same could not be said for the Countess of Cardiff and Home Secretary Victoria Ceres, who held critical feelings toward the Church, though mostly those feelings were directed at the Inquisition. After all, not only did those "bloody hypocrites" and "that bastard of a Chief Minister" hold with positively Machiavellian tactics in both foreign and domestic policies which naturally made her blood boil, but worse still they were hell bent on destroying her race. Having to face the Duke of Florence in a joint meeting would be as enraging as when she had had to restrain herself from ripping Sutler limb from limb during Parliament.

The double gilded doors to the Council chamber opened, revealing the Earl of Manchester, still garbed in his Parliament robes, and the velvet black-clad Albian Queen. Her stern visage held traces of anger and sorrow, whether it was because Virgil had briefed her about what Francesco planned to do to Albion or from the near assassination at the hands of Sutler, they did not know. Virgil then activated a holographic projector in the center of the room, disguised as a circular pattern on the tiled floor. Before the Council were the holograms of the white robed Bishop of Rome and his crimson clad elder siblings.

"Your Holiness and the Sacred College of Cardinals of Rome, we of the House of Manchester thank you for attending at such a late-"

"Enough with the pleasantries, vampire!" Cardinal di Medici declared in a huff. "What is the meaning of this, Caterina? Why is a parasite addressing this august body?"

"It would be unwise to address him as such, especially before this Council," Integra advised, twirling a lit cigarillo in her white gloved hand as she smirked.

"Brother," Caterina interrupted distastefully. Having to acknowledge kinship to him left a bitter after taste in her mouth. "The Earl of Manchester is the Lord President of Her Majesty's Secret Council. We are having a joint session with them so we may reveal the truth of what has truly occurred in Albion instead of relying on questionable media files."

"We already have the truth. The truth is a vampire killed the Albian Queen; therefore, they all should be addressed as what they truly are," Francesco countered scornfully.

"That. Is. Enough," Victoria snarled, exposing her fangs. "That word is an insult to us and that is NOT what we truly are."

"Lassie, we are not here for a Congress dance (5), let me handle this." James rose and moved towards Virgil, although he pointedly did not take his place in the center of the projection. "Me apologies, Yer Grace Cardinal di Medici. We seem to have sum misunderstandin's here. Misunderstandin's thot could hav' grave consequences if we were to allow them to go unchecked. As Prime Minister of Albion, I would care to hear sum specific clarification on certain events."

"Clarification?" Francesco echoed, not sure where the noble was going but pretty sure he would not like it when he got there.

"We've heard things, rumors really, to the effect thot Albion had been placed und'r Martial Law. If such a wild speculation were perchance true, then on whot basis would ye have made yer decision?"

"How did -?" The Chief Minister of Doctrine cut himself off before he say more than he intended on an open channel.

"_On whot basis_, Yer Grace?"

The Cardinal of Venezia cleared his throat before speaking. "On the basis of the destruction of St. Paul's (6), one of the Vatican's most prestigious cathedrals, and the assassination of the Albian Queen Esther I."

"As you should know, Your Grace," Integra said after taking a drag from her cigarillo, "St. Paul's was destroyed by Albian traitors whom we have been pursuing and will take into custody. Therefore, I believe the Vatican has no reason into declare us under Martial Law because St. Paul's destruction was an act of national civil disobedience."

"However," the Chief Minister of State for the Vatican interjected, "the assassination of Her Majesty is of international concern, especially of concern to the Vatican, considering she is one of our Faith."

"True," the Duchess of Lancaster conceded. "But it would appear that the assassins were also domestic terrorists. Only if the College of Cardinals had proof that other elements were involved in this act would the imposition of _imperium in imperio_ in any way be justified."

"Integra, what are you doing?" Victoria whispered irately.

The Countess of Oxford shushed the Countess of Cardiff before the Duke of Florence spoke again.

Francesco crossed his arms over his chest and glared sternly at the holographic interface. "Domestic terrorist or not, they attacked the Vatican when they destroyed St. Paul's. Inaction against these murderers is what emboldened them to attack the Queen!"

"Indeed," Virgil commented. "Then you gathered intelligence on these terrorists that you would like to share with us?"

Lord Walsh's interruption had the desired effect. Cardinal di Medici's visage reddened and his fists clenched as his arms suddenly returned to his sides. "It should be obvious, even to you, vampire!"

Integra grabbed the Home Secretary by the forearm before she could react. "Don't," she hissed under her breath.

"It doesn't matter who committed the acts, the facts are that not only was a Vatican stronghold attacked, but a sovereign ruler of the Faith was assassinated!"

"So, yer true reason for declaring Albion under _imperium in imperio_ is the death o' Queen Esther?" the Prime Minister drawled.

"Precisely!" Francesco barked.

"Your Holiness, Your Eminence," Virgil addressed the Pope and the Cardinal, "You both agree that the reason the College of Cardinals placed Albion under Martial Law is because of Her Majesty's demise?"

"Y-yes. I-I a-agree to that," stammered the young Pope.

"Isn't that what I just said?" the Chief Minister of Doctrine snarled.

"Then," a clear voice rang out, "there is no reason for the fleet to continue here, is there?"

If there was a moment that the Chief Minister of Doctrine had shown any form of fear in his life, it was now. There was shock on his face, but the look that had predominantly formed on his visage was dread. His eyes become as wide as saucers and his mouth hang open like a fish out of water. If the gravity of the situation were not so severe, more than one member of the Privy Council would have been tempted to laugh out loud at the sight. His Holiness, on the other hand, showed great relief and joy upon his young face, knowing that his best friend was still alive, so much so that the shield Francesco shattered had returned in full force.

Her Majesty took her seat at the head of the room upon a simple ligneous throne.

"Esther... Blanchett?" Francesco stammered, his voice rising a few octaves. "What is the meaning of this, Caterina? The Queen supposed to be DEAD! How is she-?"

"Were those not the last words that Adam Sutler spoke, just before his untimely demise?" Victoria snarked to no one in particular.

"As the saying goes, reports of our demise were greatly exaggerated," the royal redhead advised him coolly. "We do agree that many believed us to have died when the Gates were destroyed, Your Eminence Cardinal di Medici. However, it was a means to find those who have attempted to murder us, to make them believe that we had perished so they could make a public move of treason. If it weren't for the intelligence of His Excellency, the Prime Minister," she nodded her head to the Scotian, "we surely would have left this world."

"S-so that means, you faked your death to save Albion?" His Holiness Alessandro spoke up while his brother was rendered speechless.

"Indeed, Your Holiness." The Queen bowed her head slightly before the head of Christendom before her stare hardened upon Francesco. "As Your Eminence has dictated that reason for this attack upon our sovereignty is because of our 'demise,' then we would be gladdened if you, General Commander of the Inquisition, halted any further advancement of the Inquisitorial Department upon Albion."

Francesco found his voice again. "I cannot do so, Your Majesty. Your life was threatened and therefore I believe the Vatican has full rights to send the Inquisition in order to protect you, as you are one of the Faith."

"Indeed," Esther commented dryly. "Your concern is touching."

Caterina could see the wheels turning in her brother's head. He was most desperate to the situation. It made her suspect that he knew more about Esther's assassins than he should have.

"This attempt upon your life is a severe international crisis that MUST be put to a halt before the violence escalates. What if an Imperial vampire had actually attempted to take your life instead of domestic terrorists, what are you to do then?"

"We have a better idea of how the Inquisition can serve us." Esther smiled ironically and there was a sardonic lilt in her voice that Francesco didn't like. "We would like the Inquisition to look into how the Knights of Tudor, the traitors that attempted to assassinate us, managed to obtain some of their drugs, ones the Inquisitors use to give them the speed of a Methuselah, the ones that the Knights had used in the hopes of killing us." As she spoke the Queen revealed a small vial with cobalt-blue contents.

The Department of the Inquisition was considered the "Fangs of the Church," for good reason. They were a military force that viciously exterminated any and all perceived threats to the Vatican, especially vampires. Over the years, the Inquisition had created a booster drug that accelerated the body's nervous system transmitting speed so they were able to cope with a vampire's 'haste mode.' It was unfortunately highly addictive and, as a result, Inquisitors were the only ones allowed to carry such drugs because they had been extremely trained in both mind and body, far beyond that of the average human.

"Indeed, Your Eminence," Integra chimed in. "It would seem that your efforts would be better spent ensuring the security of Inquisitional supplies."

"We will await the results of your inquiry as to how did Adam Sutler and the Tudor Knights obtained these goods," the Albian Queen declared, "and we will thank you to halt the fleet until such time as the traitors, wherever they may be, are located. I look forward to your report."

"We shall leave the Fleet in Normandy, Franc," Francesco declared, "so that they may be available to assist Your Majesty should you require it."

"Or ready to return to Rome, should they not," Lord Walsh countered.

"Your Highness," said Francesco curtly to Esther before cutting the transmission.

And with that, the meeting was ended.

* * *

It would have been inappropriate to say that the Queen was stressed.

No, this feeling was worse that stress, she was fatigued. Her brief encounter with death and the concern for the condition of her people weighed heavily upon her, but the main factor to her fatigue was the platinum blonde priest that she thought was dead for over two years. She had excused herself quickly after the meeting. Walking upon the familiar path to the medical wing, she was trying to organize her thoughts until she crossed through the threshold and beheld the sleeping priest.

Esther sighed. All that worrying came to nothing. She was worried about what she would say to him if he was awake, or what she would do if he was gone, vanished, like he had never come. She didn't know what was worse, seeing him awake and probably angered with her for what she had done to him, or seeing him goofing around attempting to hide himself from her, or even worse, seeing him gone. She knew the latter option was the worst of the three because if he had left her after saving her, that would tell her immediately that he didn't care for her as she had for him. She knew that Sister Noélle had feelings for him, but she also knew, from what Father Nightroad had strangled out after the Silent Noise incident, that Noélle had confessed to him her feelings and yet he couldn't return them. She could only guess the heartbreak Noélle had suffered, but what hurt Esther worse was seeing Abel's agony about hurting Noélle before her untimely death. While Esther reminisced over this, another thought came into her mind, why didn't he return Noélle's feelings? Was it because of another woman? Was it because of a past sin? What if he-

"Esther?"

It took the Queen a millisecond to recognize the alto voice of a teenage youth...

There he was lying upon the white-linened bed next to the silver haired man. His shirt was off and every inch of his torso and arms were covered in plaster white bandages, harmonizing with his pale skin. His light blonde hair was slightly disordered, if not a an inch longer than the last time Esther saw him. His coppery eyes held traces of surprise and longing as he smiled at her, slightly exposing his canines.

"Ion," she said, then corrected herself, "Your Excellency."

"It's been awhile, Esther," Ion answered.

That smile brought out a surge of warmth, while at the same time sent a cold chill through the young woman. The warmth came from her happiness to see Ion once more, that he wasn't hurt- especially after the wounds the Knights had inflicted on him and that he was still the same sweet young man that she remembered. The chill resulted from her guilt. Guilt for not even noticing him during Parliament, guilt for not even giving him a second glance here in the medical wing and especially guilt for her feelings for Abel that she knew were the same ones the Methuselah felt for her.

"Thank whatever gods that spared me from silver overdose. I almost thought those Terran scum-" he caught himself, fearing giving offense to Esther, but she smiled and said she didn't mind because she felt the same way about the Knights as well. "-would have done me in by their own carelessness, even though they wanted me alive."

"They wanted you alive?"

"They said they needed an assassin for their little scheme, just so happens I was the one they had chosen to play the part. After they were done showing me off and once they were in charge of Albion, they planned to have their supporters put me to the torch," the Count spat out.

"That's horrible. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Never better, now that you're here. Though, unfortunately I will be weak as Terran for a few days, until the silver is out of my system."

As happiness over Ion's condition and prospects for healing flooded her mind, she immediately found herself worrying about Abel's condition. How bad was he? How long would it be before he recovered enough to speak with her? This was followed by a fresh wave of guilt over thinking about the priest instead of focusing her attention on the conversation she was having with the wounded noble.

While these thoughts pooled in her mind, Ion smirked, then chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Esther inquired.

"It's just like when we first met, only this time, I'm not trying to take out your throat," the young Earl smirked.

"Yeah," Esther sniggered at the memory, "And I'm not aiming a gun at you."

They laughed lightly. "Be honest, this feels more like that time when we were at that hostel, when we got to know each other a little better."

"Indeed." She smiled at him as she neared his bedside. What the youth said next sent an unintentional knife through her.

"Then you had told me that you were on my side."

That alone reminded her who else was in the room along with them. She made a quick glance over at the sleeping form; fortunately he hadn't moved an inch. Another tremor of guilt washed over her as she felt herself splitting apart, one half of her wanting to stay by Father Nightroad, the other half wanting to comfort the Methuselah lad. She had hoped that Ion didn't see the flash of hurt that crossed her face. Unfortunately, he caught on and his expression changed.

"Your Excellency..." She nearly whispered, but the Count cut her off.

"Esther... do you remember... what I asked you that day, before you left for Rome?"

"Yes."

"I said I would become stronger, and then I would ask you if you wanted to stay in the Empire with me."

"Yes, and then I said, 'Ask me, then,'"

"Well, I would have asked you, but... now I can't."

Esther found herself caught between shock and -though she hated to admit it- relief. Her face must have shown the former instead of the latter.

"It's alright. I know, as you are the Queen of Albion, you have to stay here. I know, back then, I felt that you could have been protected from the terrors of the Outer World if you had stayed with me. But my main reason for wishing you to stay was actually a selfish reason, because... Ever since I met you in Carthage, and in our time in the traveling to Empire together... I... I cared for you, and even to this day... I still do."

"Your Excellency..." Esther knew that she cared for Ion, possibly loved him. Sure, she enjoyed his kindness, his consideration, valued his beliefs and enjoyed his company, but the way she felt for him was like the love that friends felt for one another, possibly the way an elder sister would care for a younger brother. She didn't want to have to hurt him, but what was worse she didn't want to play with his heart by giving him any false hope. "I... I'm honored about the way you feel for me, and I hope that you will continuously support me and grant me friendship... but... I... I c-"

Esther tried to speak again, but Ion's fingertips went to her lips, silencing her.

"You don't need to say it. I know, because the same way I care for you, is the same way you care for Father Nightroad, isn't it?" she could hear the lacing of sadness in his voice and saw it in his eyes. He saw the flash of pain that crossed her visage, then he spoke again, "Relax, I'll be good."

Esther looked at him questioningly, "What do you mean by-?"

"Esther, have you ever read _Wuthering Heights_?"

"Yes, I have, recently in fact. But I didn't know Imperial Methuselah read-"

"My Lady Grandmother had that Pre-Armageddon novel in her library. She said it was so filled with Terran misfortune that she decided to collect it. Grandmother had me read it during my studies." Ion groaned at some unknown memory.

"What does that have to do with-?"

"'_And there you see the distinction of our feelings: had he been in my place and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would've raised a hand against him... I never would've banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would've torn his heart out, and drank his blood! But till then - if you don't believe me, you don't know me - till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!_'" Ion quoted fluently. He spoke again, this time with determination, "Even though back then I thought Heathcliff was the epitome of Terran evil, I can now understand how he felt. Though our main difference is, I don't hate Father Nightroad, but sometimes I feel that makes it worse."

"Your Excellency, what do you mean?"

"I respect Father Nightroad. It's uncomfortable sometimes to be angry with him over... I mean, when it comes to…" Ion took a deep breath, or as deep a one as he was capable of at the moment, then blew it out slowly. "I'm not going to split you apart. I'll be your friend, Esther. I won't ask for more than that."

Esther didn't know what she was doing until it was too late; she wrapped her arms around Ion

"Thank you," she whispered into to his ear, their faces pressed together in their tight embrace. "A friend is what I need more than anything right now."

In the next bed, Abel let out a low moan, startling them both. They broke apart and Esther turned toward the priest, hovering over him, afraid to touch him.

* * *

He was in darkness.

He wasn't floating or falling, he couldn't even tell what he was doing.

Was this Hell? He wouldn't deny that he had deserved this place, marked as he was with blood and blacker sins. But, there were no fires, no pains, and no tortures as his teachings had told him. If not, then where was he?

Then, he heard it. The cry of sorrow and pain. But the voice cracking with hard sobs wasn't his own, but a young girl's.

_NOOO! FATHER!_

He knew who this voice belonged to, and, oh, God, it hurt to hear it in such pain.

Esther... his beloved star.

Then he saw a light, like one at the end of a tunnel. He followed it and, instead of finding himself in what some would say Heaven, he found himself in a Cathedral. It was lit with thousands of candles and the stained glass windows were dark, minus the light of the twin moons, indicating that Night had fallen. He looked over to where the alter should have been, but... instead of an alter there was a black ebony casket, surrounded with even more candles and crimson roses. What caught his eye was the white form that was kneeling over the coffin and the unmistakable scarlet hair that was peeking from under the wimple.

_I did this... it's all my fault. Father... I got in the way and I killed you!_

Then it hit him. The one in the casket... the one Esther was mourning over...was him. This was the time of when he had arrived in Albion, the time after he had perished and it was here that they were holding his funeral.

_I was helpless... I just stood there and watched it happen! You weren't meant t die like this... not in this place. I never... I never had the chance to repay you. All those times you saved my life. And now... now I never will! _

Oh, how much did he want to tell her that it wasn't her that killed him, but the one who blasted the hole in his chest. He couldn't just stand there and watch her as she beat herself up over his death. He had to do something. A part of him wanted to reach out and enfold her in his embrace; another part of him wanted to yell out that it wasn't her fault. While he was listening, he could almost feel tears threatening to spill over his cheek.

_I'm so sorry. I'm hopeless... I'm useless... I couldn't save you! I couldn't do anything_.

"Miss Esther…" he whispered, hoping that she would hear him, "Don't do this. I made the very same mistake that you are making now. I mourned someone I cared about for nearly a millennia thinking it was my fault, when in truth it wasn't. Please listen to me, Miss Esther, it wasn't your fault. If _he_ wanted to kill me, there was nothing you could have done to stop him. As for those times I saved you, you don't need to repay me. It did it to protect you."

She couldn't hear him. He walked over to her and put his arms around her... rather, he would have if they hadn't gone right through her!

He couldn't believe it. He hadn't left for either Heaven or Hell; he was still in this world. Then he realized, he couldn't leave... His soul couldn't bring itself to leave Esther behind.

Then, he heard another sound; it was a soft, beautiful soprano voice singing. The song carried both longing and sorrow and pain. The song was an echo of what Esther was feeling, yet there was a hauntingly familiar ring to the song... he had heard this music before. It struck him... it was the song of the Sybil, the very one she had used when she first met him. If that was so, she was here... he quickly glanced around looking for any traces of her, but to no avail. However, after the Sybil sang a beautiful ending note, her voice echoed in his mind once more; raw guilt and sorrow was heard in her tone.

_Forgive me... I failed thee... Thou, Seth and especially... Cain. Had it not been for me, thou and thine woulds not had to suffer from my neglect... Forgive me. Tell her what is thy request of her, so that she may make amends._

What was she saying? How did she know about his sister and his lost brother? What did she mean by him and his siblings suffering from her neglect? What did she do to his family that required his forgiveness? As cryptic as her message was, one realization came to him: the Sybil's fate was undeniably bound to that of the Nightlords. And as for her request, he felt that the Sybil already knew the answer.

He looked upon his weeping love and replied: "Look after her for me. Please, do everything in your power protect her, as I cannot."

_She will do as you ask. However, thy time to return to mortal flesh is nigh. And the star's true identity must be revealed before thou risest. Thou wilt leavest the star to pursue him. In that time, she wilt watch the star from afar, as thou asketh of her. Until thou retunest to the star, she will remain in the shadows. However, should _he_ makest a move against her, she wilt warn thee before it comes to pass. _His_ decisions will be watched, but be warned... _He_ is coming... coming for thee... _he_ wilt fail, but this battle wilt end with broken wings. _

"Is this my future?"

_It is thy decision to return to thine mortal coil. Thou mayest stay in this form and watch over her forever. Should ye choose to return, this is what shall come to pass. She leaves the fate of this world in thy hands._

Immediately after the Sybil's voice was no more, Abel saw a wheat blonde Methuselah garbed in the darkest black suit cross into the hallowed ground. Suddenly, a white light appeared aloft in the candlelit cathedral and began to brighten. Before the light had engulfed him and everything around him, he caught a glimpse of the Methuselah approaching his beloved.

* * *

Esther had to keep control of herself. She needed to keep control of herself, not only for her sake, but for Ion's. The moment after she went to Abel's side, Ion turned over, pulled the sheets up to his neck and closed his eyes, making a convincing feign of sleep.

Esther quickly glanced at him and grinned slightly before looking down at Abel, whose eyes were beginning to flutter. She could almost see behind his thick sliver eyelashes those beautiful winter-lake blue eyes that she had grown to love.

In her mind's eye, she could see herself wrapping her beloved in an embrace and kissing every inch of his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks, behind his ears, his jawline, his neck and... his lips.

As that image came, another image arose of her throwing punches at his already battered body and cracking the back of her hand across his jaw, releasing the anger that she kept sealed within her since she had been crowned Queen of Albion.

She was temporarily caught in her mental musing that she realized she was holding his hand. It was then he had fully opened his eyes and they met her lapis lazuli ones.

Neither of them had ever felt more complete than in that moment, after two long years of anguish and longing.

Abel's hand momentarily had a mind of its own when he reached up to cup her cheek as he whispered her name, the name that had fueled his drive to end the one who caused this world, his star, and himself so much pain.

"Esther..."

Seeing her before him now, he felt as if she were a mirage who would disappear if he had dared to believe that she was truly there and she could feel it as his hand slightly trembled.

She smiled a tremulous smile as she closed her eyes, savoring his cool touch against the warmth of her skin. She opened them again as she brushed her fingers across his cheek, "Are you alright, Father?"

He smiled as he pulled himself up, slightly straining from the still fresh wounds he endured. But he managed to sit himself up and put all his weight to his hands. "I've been worse. By comparison, this is nothing."

"Father, don't say things like that," Esther said, her voice edged with concern and annoyance. "If this really hurts you so much, you shouldn't be-"

"I told you, I am alright." He pulled on her hand slightly, urging her to sit on the edge of the bed. She complied and her free hand then stoked the back of the hand she was occupying.

"I can't believe this," she said quietly. "I can't believe I'm actually talking to you. Seems like a dream"

"A very good dream," Abel agreed.

"So, prove to me I'm not dreaming. Where have you been all this time?"

"Here and there. Bohemia, Estonia, Vienna, Carthage, the Empire, the Dark Lands ... all over really."

"Hmm," she responded, nodding slightly. "And what were you doing... all over..."

"Uh, nothing really... Just uh..."

"You still don't trust me, do you? I may seem like a burden to you... but is that why you let me think you were dead?"

The question hung in the air between them. Abel swallowed convulsively and tried to think of a satisfying answer that did not include revealing that he was hunting the Contra Mundi.

"Miss Esther... it's not that I don't trust you... it's just that it's safer if-"

That remark caused something inside Esther do the very thing she had said she wouldn't do, she snapped.

"SO? Why do you still have to shoulder all the troubles... and also protect me? Is that why you didn't ever come back to me, damn it?"

Her hands squeezed Abel's so hard that pressure she was exhibiting would have made the metacarpal joints crack if it had been a normal human's hand. If she'd had kept her cool, she would have seen the shock in his eyes and the color drain from his face. However, two years of sorrow became two years of resentment and it exploded out of her in a heated string of words.

"You still won't tell me anything, you still dodge my questions with lame half-assed excuses! You say that you're my friend, you say that you're on my side, but you continuously hide things from me. You did it back then and you're still doing it now! I found out about your being a Crusnik by nearly getting killed. I found out you were alive only because of-"

It was nearly mentioning the Sybil that stopped Esther mid-rant. She didn't dare tell him about her. Esther knew that even if she told him, he would have a hard time believing that she found out he was alive because of some weird woman that she met in a graveyard while she was mourning over him on Allhallows' Eve. It was fortunate for Abel that she had temporarily ceased fire.

"Miss Esther, I understand why you're angry-" She cut him off with a denial.

"I'm not angry!" Esther shrieked. "Are you telling me I'm angry? It's very unpleasant to be told I'm angry when I'm not! I have believed you to be DEAD for two damn years! I'm not angry, I'm hurt, dammit!"

"I am sorry, Miss Esther, truly I am-"

"You don't have to apologize all the time!" Esther huffed. Suddenly from her raging eyes, hot tears began to fall of their own accord. Abel's eyes widened at the sight of them. "Damn," her voice cracked _"Now of all times, I get 'traitor tears,'"_ she thought resentfully.

Without warning, Abel's arms wrapped around her in an embrace, pulling her closer to him so she could feel the coolness of his body though the numerous bandages covering him. She could feel his fingers tangle through her red tresses as he buried his face into the crook of her bejeweled neck and his other hand upon the small of her back.

"Esther..." he whispered against her skin. She unknowingly blushed when he called her name without the usual honorific. "I am sorry, forgive me... I never meant to hurt you." She made a small gasp when she recalled the words of her dream. "I will tell you the truth. I was... I was hunting down my... brother."

"Your brother?"

"Yes," his voice came out ragged. "My brother... he was... no, is... the Contra Mundi."

Her eyes widened at the confession. Now it all made sense. Now she knew how he resembled her beloved, how he could be a Crusnik, and how he could so easily be the Enemy of the World. She wanted to ask how one of her beloved's kin could become a monster in human flesh, however, her desire to know where Abel was for over two years overridden her desire to know more about _him_. She decided to let Abel continue his tale.

"He... is the reason why I left. I didn't... I didn't want him... I didn't want him to hurt you. I felt that... the only way that I could protect you from him was to keep his eyes on me by staying away from you. I... let you think I was dead because... I... didn't want you to think I was alive and then die afterwards. I felt that... it would hurt you worse than believing me to be dead... than for you to find out that I was killed. All this time, after two years, I thought that he would leave you alone. However... I eventually found out... that my plan... had the opposite effect and... he was coming after you anyway. I never wanted you involved in the darkness of my past... I never wanted you involved in my sins... but now... that Contra Mundi has dragged you into this... I apparently have no choice now... but to stay by your side... as I had promised you."

Esther felt something that she hadn't felt in those two long years of agony: hope. It was a feeling that she could give to others, but not something she could keep for herself. If her hope came to nothing and Abel left her again... it would kill her. Where Gyula, Radu, Dietrich, Sutler and the Contra Mundi had not been able to finish her off, hope would do the job. However, a part of her wanted to believe him that he had left for her, that he left to protect her and that he had come back for her...

He could hear the skepticism in her silence; he could feel the doubt in her rigid form, like she was preparing for the impact. He raised his head from the crook of her neck and held her shocked face between his hands, making her lapis lazuli eyes meet his light blue ones.

"Esther... I will do everything in my power to protect you. I will tell you the truth and I will tell you how my past has affected everything that is happening now. Please, Esther... I _can't_ leave you, I _won't_ leave you. This is my promise to you, now that I'm at your side once more." His last words almost resembled a prayer, a prayer of atonement and of conviction.

Esther was still caught in her mental musings until Abel had spoken. As she took in what he said to her, she noticed that his eyes were currently unobstructed by those unnecessary glasses, his silver-white hair was flowing freely down his back and she could see the well-tone muscles of his chest and his arms, all enhancing his ethereal beauty. A beauty that had enchanted her when she first met him in István when she literally ran into him at the train station and then again when she was officially introduced to him at Gyula's palace in the Buda Province. However, it was when she looked upon those mysterious crystal blue eyes she saw a great sorrow, loneliness and longing. Somewhere within her, she wanted to do everything in her power to relieve that anguish and free him from whatever burden was weighing him down. That feeling reminded her of why she fell in love with him from the beginning.

She placed a hand upon his cheek and whispered. "I do believe you. But if you ever leave me again..." her voice then carried a dangerous edge to it, "you're dead."

Abel smiled wistfully, "I echo that sentiment. I don't think I can leave you without the risk of death."

Esther smiled, truly smiled, a second time over the course of two years. "Then I will hold you up on that promise." She closed the last inch between them and her lips brushed against his with a soft caress.

Next Chapter: Endeavors and Encounters  
Avert Not Thine Eyes

A/N: OMGosh! I can't belive it. I wrote FLUFF! YES! (Does an Irish style happy dance.) Unfortunately... I left you all an eeeevil cliffy once more. (Laughs manically.) Victory! Victory for 'Sid! I guess that is the result of the partial Sith Lady in me. (Note: my mother was a Jedi and my father was a Sith Lord. True fact.) Now that Abel is officially stuck with Esther, WTH is going to happen with Mr. Heyer and Mr. Ethridge still on the loose and Cain is still targeting her? Those questions will be answered in the next upcoming chapter of TBR Ch. XI! (Sorry, I've been watching too many ads for movies.) I also have another FF in the works for Sailor Moon. I might update it after the first TBR book is done. Wish me luck ;)

(1) The Manga stated that this phrase means "By flames shall the earth be reborn," however, but the actual Latin phrase means: "Through fire, nature is reborn whole."

(2) Brutus and Cassias were two of the Senators of the Roman Senate that assassinated Julius Caesar in both Roman History and Shakespeare's classic Julius Caesar. Brutus' intentions were pure, for he though if he removed Caesar, he would free Rome from "tyranny," but Cassias' intentions came from a desire for power. Seeing that Sutler's intentions were both, I thought I would draw the parallel between these traitors.

(3) Quoted by Jedi Skysinger, from her original WIP novel (which I am not saying here in case of copyright infringement.) Ironically, she's my editor in this WIP Fanfiction, and I'm her editor for her novel, seeing she wrote it back long ago when Heavy Metal was the thing (the clothes, the hair...oh the horror.)

(4) Quoted by of Huggcio of Pisa who stated that a Pope who publicly fornicates and publicly keeps a concubine can be deposed, because to scandalize the Vatican with affairs, is in itself, heresy. The full Latin quote is: _Ecce piblico fornicator publico habet concubiem._ Cardinal Guiliano Della Rovere who eventually became Pope Julius II attempted to remove his rival Pope Alexander VI (Rodrigo Borgia) from power using that as his basis for Rodrigo's deposal, because Rodrigo was corrupting an already corrupt Vatican, and Rovere wanted to return the Vatican to its state of purity. (Thank God it did, in later years. I was a firm supporter to Pope John Paul II, (_requiscat in pace_) and he was a perfect example for what a Pope should be. Including little Alessandro. ;) )

(5) Reference to _Der Kongress Tanzt_. After Napoleon's fall from power, Europe met together in Vienna to determine the fate of their countries; however, they couldn't get along and ended up dancing at the end of the meeting, instead of solving issues. (Note: Hetalia reference.)

(6) Research on St. Paul's Cathedral. I had made a mistake thinking that St. Paul's was the Old Bailey, which I found out after I posted my recent chapter. The Old Bailey is the #1 Courthouse in all of Britain, not a cathedral for worship. St. Paul's is an Anglican cathedral, so do not mistake it for a Catholic one. The reason why it is such here is I needed an incentive for Francesco to want to wage war with Albion without violating the Accords and what is one thing that sends the Inquisition into high gear: an attack on the Faithful. So in this FF St. Paul's is a Catholic cathedral, if anyone is offended by this, my sincerest apologies. FF backstory on St. Paul's, it was once an Anglican Church, but after the Armageddon Queen Vivian (who helped establish the underground Ghetto along with Lilith, true fact,) needed to make a gesture of goodwill with the Vatican. She didn't want them to take control of Albion by using an alliance with them (specifically to keep them off the scent of the Methuselah who had just arrived off of the continent to escape persecution.) This gesture gave the Vatican a stronghold within the nation, not only was giving St. Paul's over to the Vatican to keep them away from the Methuselah, but to also keep watch on them if they intended on taking over her country

And I now wish to thank **Aperio** and **smcandy** for their wonderful reviews. Thank you.

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	12. XI: Endeavors and Encounters

A/N: ACK! I'm SO sorry I didn't update last month, I was having a serious case of writer's block. Plus I had to look up a TON of political themes and history for this chapter. Ay mama. But the important thing is that this chapter done and updated ;) WARNING! There is going to be some intense scares and violence (i.e. Crusnik action and a LOT of blood,) so don't say I didn't warn you. Though don't worry, there will be fluff at the end. ^^ Here it is: Chapter XI. -Speaking of 11, I'm now getting into_ Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_, it helped me tremendously with the political set up. BTW was caused the setback of this chapter, was the fact I was trying to write two chapters instead of one at a time. Oy vey! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this. ^^

**Chapter XI: Endeavors and Encounters**

_"Blood hath been shed ere now, I'th' olden time..."_  
- William Shakespeare, _Macbeth, Act III, Scene IV_.

**Forty-Five Minutes Ago**

The darkening skies no longer bore the sun's golden light nor its fiery countenance as night proved victorious once again. All that was left now was the bloodied dark light of the second moon, as its silver sister hadn't returned. The darkness, too, had laid its claim on her.

Such a night as this easily foretold that Death loomed nearby, seeking to find those who held the most promise of an early demise. A peculiar observer of the darkness felt that Death was soon to pay him a visit, unless by some miracle, he would be spared.

Lewis Stone, once a man of great promise and power was now a disgraced criminal, charged with espionage and the attempted assassination of his sovereign. The only reason he was not facing a death warrant for it was because he had turned himself in and was willing to talk. However, there were many who knew that he could not, and would not, be allowed to speak.

The Knights of Tudor, the very people he had once looked up to before their fall into corruption now wanted him dead. It was because of the fear of dying at the hands of the late Chief of Justice Creedy that he had kept his silence. Until that bizarre priest Nightroad had given him something that he had never felt in years: hope. That was the hope now: that he did not have to fear death. But Lewis was no fool. He knew another organization wanted him dead, one worse than the Tudor Knights. It was the Order of Rosenkreuz, the ones who had mired the Tudor Knights in depravity.

Looking upon the fear-inspiring atmosphere once more through the small window of his cell, Lewis began musing how the Order members he had encountered were like demons in their own way. The very fact that he had sold his soul to them for a time and then had turned around and betrayed them made him wondered if Death at their hands was more frightening than Death at the hands of Lord Creedy. He wondered idly if he would be delivered straight into the Ninth Ring of Hell itself (1) at their hands.

He heard the movement of metal against stone, the banging of iron bars against their fellows and the sound of leather heels approaching.

"I heard you were willing to talk, Stone," a firm feminine voice spoke to him. He lifted his head and looked upon its owner.

Colonel Mary Spencer crossed over the threshold to stand before him as he was leaned over on his prison cot. Her cobalt blue eyes glared at him such that he could almost feel the icy stare pierce his flesh. She was garbed in a darker blue Albian military uniform replete with golden epaulets, embroidery and braids, which gave way to white form-fitting pants that, were caressed from the thigh-down in black leather boots. Around her waist was an ox-blood gilded belt that held her sheathed saber. Her white gloved hands were fisted at her hips. Her attire and stern visage as well as the dark garnet tresses pulled into a tightly braided bun upon the back of her head added to the impression that she was not a woman to cross.

"I am willing," Lewis said hoarsely, due to more than a parched throat, "but only if I can speak to Her Majesty. It is crucial that she hears this information."

"And why would that be?" Mary queried.

"This information is vital into exposing the Rosenkreuz to the world. If I can speak to her, and only her, I can trust that the message has been delivered. There are those within Albion that have become assets to their spies, I _must_ speak to Her Majesty and Her Majesty alone."

"Very well. I will adhere to your request. I will see to it that Her Majesty will be here within the hour. You have my word." Mary then turned and nodded to the uniformed guardsmen outside the cell and once more he was locked in.

Lewis then made a sound of laughter, or it would have been had it not been filled with resentful bitterness. "Her words are like poison; no wonder vampires called her 'Bloody Mary.' I'm quite surprised she didn't off me right here."

"She would have liked to, but I'm afraid _I'll_ be the one to do that job for her," a tenor voice sang, sadistic glee laced in every word.

Lewis' eyes widened at the sound and his head jerked up. He _knew_ that voice. He's heard it countless times before when the Knights held meetings with Rosenkreuz agents where he had been present. This one agent in peculiar had intimated him, mostly because of the fact he was-

Here, in the cell and his cold dark, _evil_ smile had Lewis frozen in terror. Out of all the agents he had met from the Order, this one was the worst of them.

"You- you are-" before Lewis could finish the man's fingers snapped and all that came out of his throat was a scream.

Death at the hands of the Order of Rosenkreuz was indeed worse than Death at the hands of the Tudor Knights. They would have just killed him with a bullet in his head. Lewis knew that the excruciating torture was only just beginning and he had just collapsed from only the first snap.

"Did you honestly think that we were going to let you off that easily? I want to see 'Her Majesty' just as much as you do, but I don't think either of us will get the chance." He chuckled, then sighed. "But that doesn't mean I can't leave her a parting gift. Luckily for you," the heel of his boot then came upon Lewis' brow, "I'm going to have to be quick about this, even though it's not as entertaining, but I've got orders. Oh and one more thing," he then pulled a peculiar device from his jacket and placed it in Lewis' numbed palm, closing his fingers around it. "Make certain this gets to Esther after you're dead."

Another scream echoed throughout the deserted hallway as the devil laughed. 

**Present**

Abel's eyes slightly widened at feel of Esther's lips brushing against his for the first time. However, he couldn't bring himself to break away from her or their kiss. In fact, he closed his eyes and tangled his hands into the silky scarlet tresses of her hair as he pressed in closer. He could feel her gasp against his mouth as her hand began caressing his neck, threading her fingers through his silver hair as their kiss became an open-mouthed passionate kiss. They could have lost themselves there, continued this kiss for hours, forever...

Until someone cleared her throat.

They froze, lips locked. Neither one wanted to be the first to move. Slowly Abel, then Esther, opened their eyes. Esther pulled away from the priest and then he could see that she was blushing. Then his field of vision expanded to include the stern face of Colonel Spencer glaring at him and at the back of Esther's head. The Queen, for her part, did not want to turn around. One because the look on Father Nightroad's face was so... and two she could feel Mary's eyes boring into her back and did not want to take in that sight directly. The pair put some distance between their bodies as well as their faces, although very reluctantly.

"Your Majesty, there is an urgent matter of which we must speak."

That did it. Esther had to turn around and look at her now. Reading the apology in Abel's eyes, she smiled sweetly before putting on her "official" face and turning away from him.

"As you wish, Colonel Spencer."

Abel started to get up from the bed, but the Colonel fixed him with a stony glare.

"You will stay here, for the moment, Father," she stated sternly, a hint of anger in her tone.

Her freezing gaze then turned to her monarch, "I ask to speak with you alone." Mary gestured towards the door at the end of the room. "Your Majesty."

The Queen swept past her, trying to retain her composure. It was all Father Nightroad could do not to get up and follow them. The door at the far end of the room closed with a heavy thud as the pair exited into the hallway.

Colonel Spencer didn't waste any time getting to the point. "I do apologize in advance for this. It is not my place to criticize My Queen," she began.

"Please speak your mind," Esther urged, despite knowing full well she was going to regret the invitation.

"Esther, just what did you think you're doing with a _priest _of all things?"

"I was-"

"You know damned well, Esther, how behavior like that could result in damage to your reputation as a ruler. If word spread to the public about…" she bit her lip in order to contain her anger. "I am asking you, Esther, not as a Colonel of the Albian Maries, but as your half-sister to practice some discretion. You already know about Gilbert- that is, our... father- did before he married your mother. What you don't know is that my mother, the late Viscountess of Carlisle, had always been living in the shadows. After Gilbert had married, she was then made a social outcast by the very man to whom she had borne a child. Her spiteful scorn became the lullabies I had to grow up listening to for over eight years, until her death. I am not saying this to be cruel, Esther. But…" She took a breath before continuing, her eyes both filled with concern and bitterness, "Don't repeat Gilbert's mistakes. I know you love him, but if you really, truly loved him, you would let him go. He cannot be your Prince, you know this."

"Mary, you know I'm not like our father and it is true I do love him. But he promised me that he would stay by my side. Don't make me make him break his promise. I had to live without him for two years, believing him to be dead. I don't want to live like the zombie I was before he came back to me. However, this should please you, Mary; I will not forsake my virtue until marriage. You do recall that I was a nun before I became Queen."

"I am glad to hear that. You are indeed wiser than Gilbert. I will argue that no more. But…" she made a face, "don't let me catch you two snogging every time I turn around."

"I'll try to keep that toned down."

"Well... now that that's been settled, there are more pressing matters we must attend to. Lewis Stone has requested your presence. He says he has information about the _third world power._ I suggest we leave immediately."

"Very well."

†

After "waking" the young Count, requesting Father Nightroad as an escort, and changing Esther into a more suitable attire of a white turtleneck, a black leather jacket, pants and boots, Esther and Mary eventually completed their trip to the Tower of Londinium. It's bloodstained past was evident in the cold, stone structure. It had held countless enemies of the state, political hostages, rivals, terrorists, traitors and the like. Often times this horrid place would be the last their living eyes would see. As such, it was no surprise that Lewis Stone should be held here. What was a surprise to the Colonel was the clamor and terror that reigned within the storied building at the moment, especially in the vicinity of the disgraced lord's cell.

Blue uniformed guardsmen were gathered about, some to keep order, others to see what had occurred.

"What happened?" Mary demanded from the closest guard.

"Well, Colonel, the thing is," the man hedged. "That specific prisoner you wanted us to keep watch on, Lewis Stone, well, he's dead, ma'am."

"Dead? How?!"

Mary parted the assembled troops like Moses and that certain sea with Esther, Abel and Ion in her wake.

The cell contained the body of Lewis Stone and two ashen-faced guards.

The corpse of the Lord Chamberlain was crouched in a peculiar position. It looked as though he died while bowing to someone; not at all the position one would expect of a disgraced yet deceased nobleman.

"Do you think his God struck him dead while he was praying, Father?" Ion asked quietly, looking at the horror-stuck expression that was now permanently etched on Stone's face.

"God doesn't do that, Ion," Esther gently chided.

"Then what did?" Colonel Spencer asked no one in particular.

"Stay back," Father Nightroad commanded, laying a hand on Mary's shoulder. "Something's not right here."

"You have a talent for understatement, priest," she returned, shrugging his hand off. But she stayed back, throwing out an arm to bar Ion and Esther's way.

Abel moved cautiously forward and then knelt over the body, examining first the face and then the limbs. He swept his gloved hands over the arms and back of the dead man's coat, patting down the right pocket in a move so swift no one else could follow it. There he saw it.

The Queen noticed that Father Nightroad's back stiffened as he sucked in a short intake of air.

"What is it?" she asked.

The priest turned slowly to pat down the left side of the body, while seemingly holding something between his right index finger and thumb.

"Abel?" the redhead queried again, moving forward toward the entrance to the cell.

At the same moment, he felt a rectangular object in Lewis Stone's other coat pocket.

"Esther, get back! Get out, all of you!" He straightened and flew towards the trio, pushing them back into the hallway.

"What-"

"GO!" the AX officer thundered.

As they opened the security door into the next chamber, the room was engulfed in an inferno, burning a like a gigantic Balrog (2) trying to overtake them.

The force of the explosion knocked them flat on their faces; Abel landing on their collective backs, but taking the brunt of the blast himself.

Debris both large and small crumbled from the ceiling and from the sides of the walls covered in the strident black markings of the detonation.

As the deafening roar died away, the screams of the injured could be heard despite the loud ringing in the ears of all present. The smoke billowed, blinded and choked them as they struggled to rise and make sense of what had happened.

†

"Damn that priest. If 'e 'adn't interfered, Sutler 'ould still be alive and that witch 'ould be dead!"

If the previous Tudor Knights could have looked upon the ruinous state that had befallen their sacred order, they would have wept to see just how far they had fallen.

Currently hiding in the abandoned manor house of Number Thirteen Grimmauld Place, the place that once served as their personal headquarters, Mr. Horace Ethridge and Mr. Jasper Heyer were arguing about the fact that they should be in power and wallowing in luxury instead of being on the run from the Albian police and hiding out like the criminal traitors that they were.

"All o' t'is 'ouldn't 'ave 'appened if that fecking traitor Lewis 'adn't opened 'is damn mouth!" Heyer screamed as his fist came crashing down on the ancient wood of the dining room table.

"If you want _my_ opinion, Jasper, I think all this wouldn't have happened if we hadn't gotten involved with the Rosenkreuz! Have you forgotten that THEY were the ones that nearly destroyed us that night before the witch took the throne? If you'd ask me, I think it's because of that bloody lot that she gained the favor of our fellow Albians and why they're hunting us down," Ethridge declared while crossing his arms over his chest, looking incensed.

"Ef it weren't for the Order we 'ouldn't 'ave destroyed St. Paul's nor 'ould we 'ave come so close to ridding Albion of that witch! I say we should contact them and let them know-"

"Know what? That we failed? They'll kill us first before we ask them for anything."

"Normally that is what we would have done. Fortunately for the both of you, that's not the case, _this time_, gentlemen," a tenor voice spoke from the shadows of the manor before Mr. Heyer could speak.

Mr. Heyer's visage resembled a man who had just seen an angel with good news, while Mr. Ethridge's face resembled a man who had just seen the devil himself.

The angelic devil in question smiled and said "We're giving you a second chance to end the witch. However, should you fail this time; you'll both be wishing you had never been born."

†

On the car trip back from the Tower, Esther had reviewed over the events that had taken place there. She was still slightly shaken from the bombing but what had frightened her more than anything was Abel's revelation that the one who had killed Lewis had done it by means of an electrical overdose and the method consisted of a translucent puppet string. The moment his eyes locked with hers, Esther knew one thing: the possibility that someone that she feared and believed to be dead could still be alive, after these two long years.

Dietrich von Lohengrin.

When she met him back in István, she believed him to be her ally against the vampire Marquis, Gyula Kadar. It was through her leadership and her desire to help her suffering people and Dietrich's charisma that they eventually created the Partisans, a rebel faction against both vampires and the István Military Police who were living off of the pain and burdens of her fellow human Hungarians.

Not only had Dietrich been her ally, he was also her best friend. She had trusted him to protect her, to keep her secrets and to be there for her when Bishop Laura couldn't. She had put her trust in him completely and he had supposedly also borne similar pains that she had suffered. He had told her that his parents were killed by Gyula's men and he was the one who inspired her to take up her sword and fight for justice. If it weren't for Dietrich, she wouldn't have become the woman she was today.

Esther had believed him to be her angel when in truth he would be a devil to bring her into Hell.

He had told her to stain her hands with the blood of the man who had murdered Laura. He had "died" fighting Gyula's men when they attacked and eventually burned her only home, St. Matthias Cathedral, to the ground. Yet that very night Dietrich had been revealed to be, not only alive, but also the traitor the Partisans sought to find in their own midst. What was worse than that, he had confessed his deepest love for her after he had betrayed her and used her.

That pain left a terrible scar upon her heart that once had been filled with trust for him.

When she had seen him again, in the Empire of all places, he was using Radu's shell to toy with her heart once more. He wounded Ion with a bullet that caused him to go into bloodthrist and Dietrich had handed her a silver sword to use in his twisted game. No, he wouldn't kill them and stain his hands with their blood; he was going to let them kill each other. Before he left, he had once again confessed his love for her, twisting the knife.

The last time she had seen him, he had bound her with his threads. With an evil smile playing on his lips and his eyes boring into hers, filled with an un-sated lust, Dietrich told her his intentions to destroy the world and also told her about the advent of the Angel of Death. Then he left her to die at the hands of his toys. Later... when she saw Abel... die... at _his_ hands, she briefly saw Dietrich's bloodied body and the horrible wound in his chest. His evil, black heart had, ironically enough, had been blown out of his body. There was no way he could have survived that, not even the Change from Terran to Methuselah could have revived him from that state.

If was the work of someone pretending to be Dietrich to scare her, or if there was a faint possibility he was still alive, that did a good job of frightening her as Esther shivered.

Abel had been watching her in the rearview mirror the entire trip. The Count of Memphis had done the same, sitting next to her in the rear seat. They were both aware of her distraction, though neither commented on it.

Ion and Abel noticed Esther's tremor at the same time. Abel asked first.

"What is it?" he asked, his piercing blue eyes stared at her in the glass.

"I don't understand how he could still be alive. Not with the wound he had…" she trailed off.

"It might just be someone trying to intimidate you by imitating this Germanic corpse," Mary offered, casting a sidelong glance at the priest before looking back at them.

"If that hell spawn IS still alive, we will dispatch him to back to Hades where he belongs!" Ion declared. "We will rip out his heart and drink his blood for what he did to our Tovarås!"

"I hope it won't lead to-"

BOOM!

†

The night was heavy with the smell of freshly spilt blood and the burning smell of napalm.

To say that the Night Guard, the Queen's Guard and the Blues and Royals were unprepared for such a vicious attack would have been an understatement. Not only were there legions of vampires, each of them being of the terrorist group the Fleur du Mal, but also the familiar hulking forms of the Auto-Jäger Death Hunters and their bulk weaponry. They appeared as if by magic, seemingly from the shadows of the now blood red night.

The only thing that had alerted the Palace security was the sharp eyes of the Methuselah Night Guard and their head, Vanessa Walsh, just a scant few seconds before the terrorists made their attack. Now the white fountain outside the palace was stained with blood, the dark, red-black blood of Methuselah, and the water was brimming with bodies and body parts as the Night Guard and the Fleur du Mal attempted to dismember each other in an attempt to gain the upper hand in the battle. As the vampires attacked one another in a frenzy, the Auto-Jägers moved with their slow, rumbling movements and their large weapons towards the human guards at the front of the palace. The Death Hunters were slow enough for the more skilled Terrans to confront and kill them, but the less skilled were quickly added to the ranks of the dead and dying. Methuselah on the fringes of the confrontation in the great courtyard outside the palace turned to either prey on the slower, weaker ranks of the human guards or to defend them.

As the quartet returned from the prison, still covered in dust and ash and smelling of smoke, they attempted to enter through the front of palace. Esther was so enraged at the carnage in front of Buckingham, the bodies of her guard and of her enemies littering the grounds, that it was all Abel could do to contain her and prevent her from leaping out of the car to join the fray.

Mary Spencer expertly turned the car away from the scene and raced towards the back of the structure under attack.

"You cannot help them. You are too valuable to be killed," she reminded the redhead.

"This does not make sense," Ion stated. "If they wanted to storm the palace, why did they not bring overwhelming forces? This is merely a slaughter."

"Yes, a slaughter AND a diversion," Father Nightroad concluded quickly. "They're trying to keep everyone's attention on the front courtyard. We have to get-"

"Around the back," Mary finished for him. "I know!"

†

Now, blood also stained the once pure, gilded white walls of the palace interior and corpses of both Albian Terrans and Methuselah soldiers littered the hallways.

Vanessa swore as an Auto-Jäger attempted to strike from behind before her brother, Virgil, sliced its head off with his talons, as she began blasting through enemy after enemy with her assault rifle. The three handmaidens, Sarah, Naomi and Erica, counter-attacked with their own weapons of choice. They and the Walsh siblings formed a tight circle of defense.

Almost every human soldier, even though they were armed with silver bullets, were simply were no match for their combatants speed and strength. In seconds, most of them were already dead or bleeding out on the floor.

Virgil and Vanessa were about to be ambushed by a vampire attempting to take them down from above... who might have succeeded had there not been a bullet entering its brain.

"Excellency! Vanessa! Are you all right?!"

The Walsh siblings heard the voice of their sovereign cry out running up to them with her trustworthy partisan gun gripped in her right hand. Father Nightroad was behind her with a smoking revolver in his clutch. Ion had discarded his white cloak to reveal crimson armor and a bronze breastplate with his titanium scimitar unsheathed and Mary with her garnet strands of hair disheveled held her sword aloft. Apparently, the four of them had to fight their way to this point in order to reach them.

"Your Majesty, what the hell are you doing here?! You need to get out of here!" Vanessa shrieked.

"I can't! Not when there are people dying for me!" Esther declared.

"Your Majesty," Virgil cut in, his voice laced with frost, "Our priority is your safety. They're here for you, not for anyone else; therefore, you must leave before they succeed in their intentions."

"Your Excellency, I cannot stand around and do nothing. As Queen, I must do everything in my power to protect my people. Letting them die for me is violating the oath I made on my coronation."

Virgil turned his head for a second, considering her words then lifted his head and said. "Very well. Father Nightroad," the Earl addressed the priest.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"She stays, but keep her in your line of sight. Protect her with your life, swear to it."

"You have my oath." Abel swore before he queried, "Is there anyone guarding the Ghetto?"

"I kept two of my best guards there when I heard the palace was breached. You don't think that _they_-"

"That's probably why they're here!" Abel exclaimed as he pulled Esther into his left arm. Esther made a slight sound of protest but couldn't complain. "I will be back to help you, but for now, I must make sure that _he_ doesn't get a hold of _that_." For a brief moment, there was tinge of blood-red seeping into those winter-blue eyes.

And in the twinkling of an eye, the AX agent and the Albian Queen were gone.

A scream was heard as a Fleur du Mal agent attempted to slice through two of the girls, when suddenly the tip of a titanium scimitar that could only be classified as an Imperial weapon appeared through its heart. Behind it, the young Count, growled in satisfaction.

"So far, so good, for Terrans-" he nearly complimented, but was cut off when Erica fired a round into the head of an Auto-Jäger and cut off a lock of Ion's hair in the process.

"You're not too bad yourself," Erica quickly stated, brushing her dirty-blonde hair out of her eyes before she turned to take her next shot.

Mary sliced the head of a hulking Auto-Jäger and then joined Virgil and Vanessa's circle of defense.

"I never would have thought in my life I'd be fighting back to back with vampires." she smirked.

"The allies watching your back are Methuselah," the Earl stated, "the ones that are trying to kill you are vampires."

"I stand corrected, Lord Walsh, but right now we've got a fight to finish!" She pulled out her revolver and fired into the heart of a Fleur du Mal agent.

†

"Father, what's going on?" Esther queried while the priest sped through the palace halls, corpses lessening by the yard as he headed toward his destination.

"Esther, tell me, are there other ways of entering the Ghetto besides through the palace?" Abel asked, his voice laced with an unreadable emotion.

"Except for Lady Buchanan's passageway from her home, the only way in or out is now the secondary elevator that only I can access."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I used that elevator to get the enslaved Methuselah out when I ordered their release. There were still those who wished to stay, so I didn't deny them that right. However, I used that means to achieve their freedom. Also it's because of that elevator that Virgil found out who I was."

"How was that?" Abel asked, evidently curious.

"The elevator only responds only to my genetic signature. I used it on the day you..." Esther trailed off, recalling what she used that elevator for and who she was attempting to follow once she caught up to...

She saw it again. The black winged fallen angel berserk with rage, screaming the true name of the Contra Mundi; his blood-red scythe was poised to bring forth the swift wings of death...

Then he saw her. His scarlet eyes widened in shock of her sudden appearance. He whispered her name before he suddenly halted his attack, bloodlust and rage disappearing in an instant. The white fiend smiled, extended his hand and, with a great outburst of power, the heart of the man she loved stopped beating.

The Crusnik fell and returned to his human form, the blood red eyes reverting to their winter blue... losing life... as he uttered his final word: her name.

All she could do was watch helplessly as he fell... to his death.

At the memory, the questions that had haunted her for two years suddenly took dominance in her mind.

Did he hate her for her interference? Did he blame her for his death? Was one of the reasons he left her because he was angry with her? What would he say if she ever asked him these questions, so full of doubt, especially after he had expressed his true feelings for her?

Abel shifted from foot to foot, wanting to pace in the confines of the elevator, but having no room to do so. Perversely, the urgency of reaching their destination made the time of the ride telescope and elongate. Although Esther was caught in her thoughts, the frantic energy that was radiating off of the priest still penetrated her reverie. After what seemed an eternity, the doors finally opened onto the desolate landscape that was the Ghetto.

"Target in sight," came disembodied, monotone voice from somewhere in the blackness.

The priest and the Queen stood back to back, weapons drawn, as they searched for the threat. Whatever was out there, it was not visible in the shaft of pale light that penetrated the murky darkness and Esther could not see into the shadows. Father Nightroad however could see almost as well in the night as in the day. He spotted the outline of a small figure fairly far away.

But not far enough away Abel realized as he determined that they were up against a deadly android.

"Get back!" he ordered, pushing Esther into the open door of the elevator.

"Rewrite resident tactical program from surveillance mode to assault mode. Mission Objective: terminate the Albian Queen. Commence combat."

Materializing before him was what appeared to be a young girl, a facsimile of one really; her appearance was that of a porcelain doll in a white and black maid outfit. The powder-white skin, her tyrian-dyed hair in a perfect bowl-cut and the blank expression in her violet eyes all completed the illusion. However, the image was distorted by the monstrous sword she wielded and the eyes were that of an emotionless machine.

The priest barely had time to pull out his revolver in defense before it was too late. With a quick precise movement, the automaton had removed the sword from its sheath and the blade met the armored guard upon Abel's left shoulder, cracking it in two, blood beginning to seep from the slice. Abel felt a stab of pain ensuing from the cut and heard Esther's gasp but he couldn't bring himself to stop, not now. Using superior speed and strength, Abel jabbed his elbow into the auto-doll's midsection and pushed her back before shooting her right shoulder joint, knocking the sword out of her hand.

"Esther, stay in there!" Abel commanded. Before Esther could object, he closed the elevator doors and it was good timing for the android had recovered.

"Right arm joint demolished- operation impossible. Rewriting program. Commence use of left arm operation," the android spoke before picking the sword back up and resuming its mission. "Rewriting Mission Objective: annihilate obstacle obscuring previous mission objective."

She was about to slice at the AX officer, however...

"Nanomachines Crusnik 02: Power output to 40% activate!"

Cold steel had met a blood red scythe instead of flesh. That same powerful creature, the one that had taken the life of the arrogant warlock and Chief of Justice Seeley Creedy, had now appeared before the soulless man-made killing doll.

"Target: Crusnik 02. Rewrite resident tactical program from Assault Mode to Genocide Mode. Combat Engage."

And so a deadly dance between the Crusnik and the murderous machine began. With the swinging of blades and deft evasion, the deadly dance of twisting and turning and the chorus of clashing blades continued as both beings of death attempted to slay each other. Abel threw every ounce of his being into protecting the woman he loved as he attempted to overcome the machine.

"0.23, too slow."

He felt the icy metal slice down the length of his back, splitting cloth and flesh with absolute ease. Abel had to bite back a yelp, attempting to keep himself from falling back or conceding. The Crusnik aimed for the nearest limb, in hopes of slowing down this metallic killer; however, she easily dodged the blow and drove the blade deep into his right shoulder, forcing him to drop his scythe. She was about to land the blow that would bring swift demise until...

"NOO!"

A gunshot rang and the sword fell upon the hard metal floor. Abel dared to look up and saw that the killing doll's arm was useless, having been hit by a large caliber bullet in the shoulder joint, golden sparks emanating from where the bullet entered.

"Left arm joint demolished- operation impossible."

She then turned her head into the opposite direction, as if hearing something the Crusnik couldn't.

"Rewriting Mission Objective: Return to Masters Pygmalion and _Marionettenspieler_. Issuing retreat."

And in a blink of an eye, the mysterious android had vanished.

Abel stood absolute still for a moment and then a moment more, wanting to assure himself that his opponent was truly gone. His breathing was harsh and wracked with the pain of his injuries. It echoed loudly in his own ears, shutting out what he needed to hear. He tried to compensate with his unique sight, scanning the darkness with alert eyes as though it were day.

Nothing.

Then another sound and another smell penetrated the noise of his laboring lungs and the smell of his own blood.

It was her breath, stuttering and shallow, and the smell of fear that over washed her own lovely scent that caught his attention and had him turning slowly around.

Esther was standing there, the gun still extended in her hand before her from where she had fired the shot that had disabled the mechanized merchant of death. Her chest was heaving and her hair was disheveled. Her lapis-lazuli eyes were as big as saucers and focused on the long bloody line the doll had carved into this back. Her face was pale, whiter than-

Except he was no longer white- he was paler than her- he was still in Crusnik form, somehow he was unable to return to normal, for battle-rage was still singing in his veins.

"**Don't look," **he rasped. He didn't want to look at her fear-filled eyes from her terror of him, he didn't want her to see the _thing_ that he was. **"Please, I don't want you to..."**

The words were pathetically inane. She had seen him that that form already, hadn't she?

Unleashing a strangled sob, Esther flung herself onto the Crusnik, her arms wrapping around his waist and burying her face into his chest. She dropped her gun in the process. Abel had to repress a gasp of surprise and, as he felt hot tears streaming down his cassock, all he could do was wrap his arms around her small form, careful not to hurt her with his diamond-hard talons.

"I'm... not... at all... afraid..." her words were muffled by her cries of frustration and sorrow, "...of _you_. I was afraid... I was going... to... _lose_ you... again… especially... _here_... of all places!"

Her words sent a flood of emotion through him, like a cold, refreshing river rushing down a mountain side. He couldn't believe what had just transpired, he just couldn't. She wasn't afraid _of_ him, she was afraid_ for _him. It was that realization that sent a surge of warmth throughout his entire being. The hot fire of fury in his blood cooled almost instantaneously and when Esther looked into his eyes, pristine tears still streaming down her cheeks from the exquisite pools of lapis lazuli that were her eyes, she saw that the lurid shade had faded into those winter-lake like orbs that she had loved. His hair then fell from its diadem to form a waterfall of silver, which she felt fall around her wrists as it cascaded down his back. Warmth then returned to his skin and she felt it as his _normal _hand brushed away her tears as color flooded his face. The last phase of his metamorphosis was his mouth. His lips lost their blue-ish tint and his fangs retracted back into his canines. It was no longer the fearsome Crusnik and the embattled Queen. They were just Abel and Esther, two lovers joined at the heart that had been apart for far too long.

His hand snaked up her back to settle onto the back of her head, threading his fingers through her brilliant red hair. He kept the other firmly around her waist as he slowly pulled her towards him. Esther's hands moved up his back in response, tightening her grip on his priestly robes. Abel bent down slowly, bringing his free hand to cup her cheek as he gazed into those beautiful sparkling lapis lazuli eyes, which seemed to see straight into his soul, before he leaned in to gently brush her lips. Esther wasn't having anything to do with patience as she crushed herself against him and his mouth, locking them together in a passionate kiss.

†

The battle was nearing its end.

However, the conflict had increased in its violence. Despite equal losses on both sides, the invaders were gaining the upper hand. The numerous hoards of vampires and Auto-Jägers had almost wiped out all of the Queen's Guards. Fortunately, thanks to the protection of the Night Guard and the Walsh siblings, the total loss of human life was not as great. The handmaidens would have suffered a similar fate to those who were wounded or dying around them had it not been for the Count of Memphis.

Just when Sarah's AK-47 and Naomi's pistols had run out of ammunition, the vampires nearly sank their fangs into them until a cloaked figure joined the fray. With two fell sweeps of his staff, those who had impersonated the dead joined their ranks. Ion, who had just cut off the head of another Fleur du Mal agent, barely had time to turn his head and see the monsters fall to their deaths. His eyes turned to their hooded savior, only the staff he wielded had become a silver blade, reddish-black blood staining the sword in streams.

"_Omnes enim qui acceperint, gladium gladio peribunt_, Amen. (3)" the man whispered.

"We don't know who you are, but we give you our thanks," stated the young Count.

"The same goes for me and Naomi," Sarah stated as Naomi nodded her head.

The shadow had removed its cowl and the blonde man beneath it was so handsome one could have nearly described him as beautiful. The peridot eyes were his predominant trait and they shown with a deadly light.

"No need for that," AX Enforcement Officer Father Hugue de Watteau, the Sword Dancer, stated.

"Save the banter for later," Erica declared, as she took out an Auto-Jäger with a swarm of kunai knives. "Kill these things already!" she said before she tossed an extra semiautomatic machine pistol to Naomi.

"Well, then let's finish this!" Sarah smiled as she unsheathed her military saber, the blade appearing to have been impregnated with silver nitrate as she diced an approaching Auto-Jäger.

Mary had just diced up another vampire and Vanessa had fired another barrage of bullets when the screams of humans had caught the attention of her sensitive ears.

It was Horace Ethridge and Jasper Heyer. They were about to be sliced apart by an unmasked Death Hunter. The sight of would have made the average human retch; its empty eye-sockets were sewn shut, mechanical parts were into screwed its cerebellum and a gag was sewn into its mouth, its remaining fangs exposed. Fortunately, this tortured soul didn't have to endure this harsh existence any longer as Virgil's talons had brought it the swift blessing of death.

Mr. Ethridge's widened gaze would have been comical had it not been for the gravity of the situation. After the monster that had nearly taken his life, he sank to the floor and began begging Virgil to spare him. The same could not have been said for Mr. Heyer. He had grabbed the nearest fallen weapon and pointed it directly at his subordinate's head.

"Bloody traitor!" Heyer spat. "Ye 'ave no pride's a Knight of Tudor. Ye kno' th' price for treachery!" He then turned his face to Virgil, "Ef ye get any closer, leech, E'll blow this motherfecking bastard's 'ead rig' off!"

Virgil had only taken two steps and Heyer's fingers had tightened upon the trigger, "E said, not anot'er step!"

"Do that and I'll blow YOUR head off, filthy Terran!" screamed Vanessa.

"WAIT! Vanessa! Don't do it!" Virgil ordered.

"He's a Knight of Tudor and a traitor! Why shouldn't I?!"

"Because he has information on the Order! We need them to talk."

"Like 'ell E'm goin' to talk! E'll kill meself before that 'appens!"

"Then why don't you?" Virgil challenged.

The seconds that passed then felt more like a century before Mr. Heyer had looked at Mr. Ethridge's twisted expression of fear, then at Virgil's determined stare and Vanessa's glare. The gun began to tremble in his hand until he dropped his hand. Virgil was about to approach him but then a shot rang out and Virgil fell.

"BROTHER!" Vanessa cried she then turned back to the monster that fired the round and pulled the trigger.

Mr. Heyer had been granted the death he had desired, to die fighting vampires.

Mr. Ethridge had immediately went to the fallen noble's side, but then Vanessa's rifle aimed at him.

"Get your filthy hands off him, you damn dirty Terran! Do it now or I'll kill you!"

Mr. Ethridge raised his hands then said, "I'm only trying to help!"

"Like hell you were!" Vanessa spat.

"He saved my life from one of my own! You might think we don't have honor, but you're mistaken. I was once a doctor before I became Lord of Appeal. Let me save him and in return you can hold me for my crimes and I'll give you all the knowledge I have on the Order of Rosenkreuz. I swear," Mr. Ethridge promised.

Vanessa looked at him and her dying brother. Swear? That was nothing more than a flowery word that only ended in betrayal. She learned very well from bloody Mary how wonderful swears and promises worked out. The thought brought back the time when her people were being oppressed by Bloody Mary and how she planned to do unto the Ghetto what she did unto Belfast. The memory left the bitterest gall upon her tongue; however, she then remembered the young Pope who had spared her, despite her scaring him with her yelling and her holding him hostage. Then she recalled her brother's words:

"_No one is as good or as bad as we think they are. That holds true for both Terrans and Methuselah."_

However, how can she trust this Terran? He was a member of that band of traitors that were hoping to wipe out her race. After that she recalled that after Esther had become Queen, Bloody Mary herself had a change of heart and afterwards sworn to protect the Queen, and the Albian people, both Terran and Methuselah.

"Vanessa," the Earl choked. "We need him. Don't..."

As Virgil began coughing up his own blood, Vanessa had made her decision.

"Fine. But, I'm warning you, if you backstab us, you'll wish you've never been born."

"Believe me, I already wish that."

†

"Reminds you of the time the Rosenkreuz invaded doesn't it, Ceres?" Integra asked, after slicing the head off a Death Hunter, her silver sword held aloft.

As soon as the battle began, Sir Integra had used herself as bait to lure the vampires into the quadrangle, where Victoria had finished them off with her anti-Methuselah cannon, the Harkkonen. The Velvet Nightmare was nothing compared to this leviathan. The Harkkonen was thirty meters in length and was designed to be used with both depleted uranium shells and exploding incendiary shells. One shot from this monstrosity would wipe out at least five vampires.

"I'd rather forget that time, Integra," Victoria replied.

"If it weren't for that time, you wouldn't know how to fight, now would you?" Integra snarked.

"Ef ye want, me honest opinion, lassies," Prime Minister Stuart said, one of his eyes had become blood red while the other remained its characteristic forest green, as he stood over two deceased vampires, his cane-sword stained with their blood, "All this fightn' weig's 'eavily on me poor nerves."

"Sometimes we must do what is required of us despite our circumstances. Isn't that what you have told me so long ago, Berserker of Scotia?" Integra declared.

"I'm no longer that man, lassie. Ol' age tends to make ye weaker tha' ye once were, Iron Woman."

"I would think otherwise considering that recent display of your 'Geis.' I can see why the Erins consider you to be the second coming of Cu Chulainn. (4)"

"Um, I hate to interrupt this walk down memory lane... but has anybody noticed that the enemy has vanished?" Victoria asked from between the second floor windows.

Sure enough, all the battalions of vampires and Auto-Jäger Death Hunters had vanished; the only trace left behind was the numbers of the dead and the deceased.

"First the assassination attempt by the Knights of Tudor, then the Tower of Londinium gets blown up and now these legions of vampires and monsters attack the palace. What the bloody hell are those Germanics planning?" Ceres questioned.

_"Krieg_.(5)" Integra stated icily. "Like on that day two years ago, they plan on sowing the seeds of chaos and hatred, so they can watch the world destroy itself."

†

Caterina was sitting in her office in the early morning hours trying to digest not only the dried cake that's she'd washed down with tea long gone cold, but also all the information that she had received from her various sources in the Albian court. She pulled the thin mauve robe more tightly around her white nightdress. She couldn't sleep, so she had taken herself as well as her late night snack from her room and returned to her office. When she had gone to bed last night, the thing that was worrying her was her half-brother's placing the Fleet in Franc. This morning, Francesco's machinations had become the least of her worries.

It was hard to say what out of all the conversations she had had during the day was the most troublesome. All of the things Her Eminence had been told had come one on the heels of another. She had no sooner finished pondering the ramifications of one near disaster, when reports of another would present itself. Caterina supposed that she should take comfort in the fact that she had so many people eager to bring her the news, even if what they reported wasn't altogether pleasant.

Cardinal Sforza had last seen the silver haired priest four days ago. As always, he had done what he set out to do. The Queen was still alive, despite the best efforts of multitudes of Esther's enemies to bring about her demise. He had spoken to her of the numerous losses of palace guards, both human and vampire, and of the fact the whole attack was merely a ploy.

The true goal was to keep security on the surface while they had descended into the Ghetto, taking with them peculiar ancient artifacts of Lost Technologies. One of these the Crusnik priest had called the B-VI, the Devil's Sword, was a weapon that could take the lives of many more than those who met their demise that night. The other was a hard drive and memory chips to a rocket control panel. The thieves were none other than the ones who were pulling strings behind the scenes this whole time, the Order of Rosenkreuz. When Abel had specified what these technologies consisted of and who he deemed responsible, Caterina could almost swear that his eyes were stained blood red and the expression on his face was cold with icy rage and wide with agonizing guilt. It was after that that she had inquired about the Crusnik. He had told her that even though he was loaded 100%, he still retained every aspect of his sanity for some unknown reason. However, he still feared that the Crusnik could still do unto him what they did to his lost brother. There was, unfortunately, a side effect to this, despite being at 40% capacity on the night he taken the life of the Tudor Knight, Mr. Creedy, the Crusnik had given him the mentality of when he was in 80% capacity. What had chilled the Woman of Steel to the core was the way his eyes had been so filled with self-loathing and fear of what he could become.

Caterina decided right then to shift the disturbing topic to the Albian Queen. One of the reasons was because she didn't want to see her best friend suffer by his own guilt, but the other was that she couldn't bear it if he had told her that he had blamed her for having done the forbidden by fusing him with his lost love's nanomachines. Fortunately, Abel had gotten the clue and had told her that Esther hadn't suffered one injury from the attack, nor from the attempted assassination. However, the loss of so many Terrans and Methuselah had caused a great deal of mental and emotional weight to descend upon her that Abel was forced to confess his involvement in comforting her. Caterina still smirked at the memory of the blush that spread across his cheeks and the comedic look upon his face.

Afterwards he spoke of Ion's involvement in protecting the handmaidens, despite suffering from silver poisoning, and how one of the girls, Sarah, had personally thanked him by giving him Aqua Vitae, with much appreciation on the Count's part. Then came the topic of Hugue's dramatic arrival into the fray, thus turning the tide in favor to the Albians. Caterina couldn't deny her pleasure of hearing the Sword Dancer had, for once, obeyed her orders and hadn't gone AWOL once the battle had ended. Abel had also told her that another handmaiden, Erica, had taken a liking to the golden blonde priest and he saw him to talking her, despite Hugue's characteristic of being a loner and usually not seeking attention from the opposite sex. The conversation had ended with Abel's stomach comedically growling before she dismissed him.

It had been pleasant to see her old college friend, Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing, again. But like her conversation with the AX officer, the report had been a mixture of dark clouds and linings as silver as "Lord" Integra's hair. Integra had reported her side of the attack and bore the same suspicion as to who was really involved than just random vampire terrorists who wanted to paint the town literally red. She had also reported that the Earl of Manchester had been shot by a traitor, but was fortunately recovering with the aid of the turncoat Horace Ethridge, the former Lord of Appeal. Caterina couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief to know that, at last, they had someone who dealt with the Order who was willing to speak. Integra also had confessed that she, too, was content with the sudden turn of events, especially after Lewis Stone was killed. Integra had also mentioned that Virgil's fledgling, Victoria Ceres, was also doing well, despite her refraining from drinking blood, or blood tablets, which resulted in Integra deciding to take the drastic action by feeding the Methuselah herself. Caterina wasn't sure how that was going to end, but hoped that she was making the right choice.

Which reminded Caterina of the fact that she hoped she had made the right decision by sending Father Havel to spy on Emmanuel D'Annunzio. At the time, when she sent the cyborg priest out on his mission five weeks ago, she felt that she was in the right, especially now that Francesco's fleet had landed in Normandy just a few hours ago. Archbishop Emmanuel D'Annunzio, the head of the Vatican Special Police Force, also known as the "Carabineri," had worked consecutively as the former Director of the Inquisition and was the private secretary to the Pope since the time of the previous Pope Gregorio. The Dean of the College of Cardinals at the time feared his abilities and reputation enough to keep him at a distance. However, it was because of Emmanuel D'Annunzio and his political prowess that the city of István was reconstructed after the "Star of Sorrow" incident four to five years ago. And it was D'Annunzio who had proclaimed Esther Blanchett to be the Lady-Saint of István due to her victory against the monster Gyula Kadar and charismatically had the College of Cardinals approve his proclamation.

Unfortunately, Caterina knew that, in private, D'Annunzio's views about vampires were just as extreme as Francesco's. She knew that in the Archbishop's mind, vampires were nothing more than evil beasts that needed to be vanquished and that the Accords would bring for nothing but disaster. Due to his popularity amongst Francesco's followers and his personality, he was gaining power within the Vatican; so much so, it was close to rivaling Cardinal di Medici's influence. If Francesco and D'Annunzio made an alliance and influenced the College, the Accords would no doubt be thrown into flames and inevitable war would break out between the Vatican, the Empire and Albion.

The Minister of State had to ascertain whether D'Annunzio had made such a maneuver to ally himself with Francesco. In response to this internal threat, she had sent Father Václav Havel to keep the Archbishop under surveillance. Being one of Caterina's closest companions, she was confident that he could fulfill his mission without any mishaps. Bearing in mind that his loyalty to Caterina was unquestionable, she could trust him to not rouse suspicions. However, Caterina was now considering a change in his orders; to not only perform surveillance on D'Annunzio, but also Francesco, especially now that the Minister of Doctrine's fleet had landed in Normandy just a few hours ago.

The Republic of Franc was actually the only Human State that had a democracy as a functioning political system. However, the Vatican feared the Republic, and as a means to keep Franc under their control, the Vatican had created a political figurehead to ensure that the Republic would remain loyal to them. Officially, the figurehead held the title of a Potentate, with limited political powers and was only a ruler in writing not in executive and legislative powers. Unfortunately, the current Potentate Henri XI had the audacity to call himself a King and in doing so had created the proverbial political minefield. Worse yet, Henri was a self-absorbed, licentious excuse for a ruler and should he attain absolute power, the people would no doubt suffer because of it.

Now that the Inquisitorial Department had landed in Normandy, the situation would only get worse. She knew of the Inquisition's intolerable acts toward those they held under Martial Law and, if either humans or vampires acted against them or interfered, they would die despite the Franco-Vatican treaty and the Accords. The Cardinal also suspected that whatever plans that Chief Minister of Doctrine and the Francian Potentate plotted, they were probably using the failed assassination of the Albian Queen to set it into motion. No doubt the Francians would blame the Albians for bringing the Inquisition down on their necks. To the Francians, it was almost as if the Albion had _plotted_ to have their own Queen assassinated in order to give the Vatican free reign over their country.

As bad as the self-proclaimed King as well as the Duke of Florence were, the person the Duchess of Milan was currently most concerned about was the President of the Francian Republic and former General of the Francian Army, Marie de Guise. Marie was of the distinguished de Guise family and had supplied the poor with food and money out of her own fortune. She, along with the Methuselan Senator Diane de Portieres, had begun to sway the Congress into giving the Methuselah of Franc more rights and legalizing the selling of enriched blood products for Methuselan citizens. Marie also had an incredibly successful political military record of ending the border skirmishes with Germanicus, and was an incredible diplomat, turning conflicts to the favor of the Francian people.

President de Guise had been outspoken in many a Congress Session that the Republic should consult with the Vatican to remove the so-called King from power and many times she consulted with Cardinal Sforza to speak with His Holiness that he may decree the dismissal of the Potentate, so that Franc could function as a normal democracy once more. Unfortunately, Francesco had interfered each and every time with the statement that only a Cardinal or the Potentate may consult a meeting with the Pope and hinted that should the Congress move against the Potentate, they would be moving against the Vatican and doing so would result in open hostilities between the Inquisition and the Francian Military. Marie had expressed great sorrow, anger and regret in attempting to consult with the Vatican and Caterina suspected that those in the Order of Rosenkreuz would attempt to make allies with her with the false promise of removing Henri from power and hereby removing the Vatican from the country... permanently.

The Chief Minister of State needed to ascertain whether or not Marie had done the worst, which was why she sent Father Tres Iqus. Being an android, he could logically assess the situation and fulfill his mission without any chance for a faux pas. The Milanese Cardinal had an incredible feeling that the Inquisition's landing in Franc was probably one of Francesco's illegal political abuses and she may yet, after two long years of covering up Francesco's shenanigans, _in flagrante delicto_ -catch him in the act.

Despite how much weight could be lifted off her shoulders at that possibility, what would enlighten her spirits more than anything would be the achievement of her lifelong goal: retribution for the monsters who took the life of her beloved mother. She hoped that she may yet live to see the day when the Order of Rosenkreuz would be exposed to the world and both Terrans and Methuselah would unite to bring them down. Caterina knew that she did not have much time left. It was soon to run out.

It was evident as she began coughing up blood.

A/N: Dun da Dun DUN! (laughs maniacally) The eeevvviiilll Sith Lady has not only returned after a long period of time, but also leaves you all a cliffie! (Mwa, ha, ha, ha!) Finally after seven months of writer's block I have completed THE MOST difficult chapter for me to write. (Dances with a flurry of blue roses.) Though I must confess another reason why I've been taking so long to write was because of college exams and paperwork I need to fill out before the next semester starts. (Ay Mama.) However, I got to go to MegaCon once again, see dear Vic Mignogna-sama (the English voice of Virgil Walsh) I also got to meet Todd Haberkorn (Viscount Druitt from _Black Butler_), Laura Bailey (Tohru Honda), and Travis Willingham (Roy Mustang - who is dead sexy in a miniskirt. XD.) And while I was suffering from writer's block I found inspiration from _Hellsing: Ultimate OVA 1-4_, _Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion_, _TsukiYomi MoonPhase_, the _Fullmetal Alchemist _Original Anime, re-watching _Trinity Blood _and also listening to my new favorite: Vocaloid music. XD. And good news to everybody, I now have a Facebook account. (So friend me, 'kay?) Anyway, I hope the next update will be A LOT quicker than this one. Have a blessed day, to you all. 3 BTW Kudos points to the one who can spot the _Harry Potter _reference and the _Planet of the Apes _reference.

Updated A/N: The reason I decided to alter the last paragraphs of this Chapter was because I altered former plotpoints that I removed because I was getting too out into left field with my ideas. (I give my personal thanks to **smcandy** for helping me to figure this out.) The original plotpoints I had intended for this fanfiction had originated from an original fiction about an Alternate Universe concerning the French Revolution. I hereby decided to eliminate this plotline and henceforth will no longer be involved with this fanfiction.

(1) Indirect reference to _The Inferno_ by Dante Alighieri. It was Dante's belief that the Ninth Ring of Hell held those who had committed treason in their life on Earth before death. It was also believed by Dante that the Ninth Ring of Hell was not a burning pit of flame but a place of darkness and coldness. For the absolute absence of God, who is warmth and light, is dark and cold.

(2) Indirect reference to J.R.R Tolkien's second novel _Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers_.The Balrog of Morgoth, Durin's Bane, was a powerful fire demon that haunted the halls of Khazad-dûm. (And by fire demon I don't mean like Calcifer from_ Howl's Moving Castle_. Think of a monstrous horned beast with flames spewing from its body and its mouth, armed with a flaming sword and a many thronged whip.) It almost led to the demise of Gandalf the Grey, but instead Gandalf destroyed the Balrog with his Elven-sword, Glamdring, and eventually became Gandalf the White due this victory against a great evil.

(3) Quoted from the Latin Vulgate Gospel of Matthew 26:52, the translation from the KJV is: "Then said Jesus unto him, Put up again thy sword into his place: for all they that take the sword shall perish with the sword." This proverb is also regularly used by Hugue throughout the Trinity Blood novels and Manga.

(4) Cu Chulainn was an Irish warrior who was so strong that as a boy he killed a lunging hound with his bare hands, which earned his name meaning "Hound of Culann." He also defended Ulster from Queen Mebd's army in the Cattle Raid of Cooley. However, she along with the Goddess of War, Morrigan, through betrayal and the power of a "Geis" (Note: to all _Code Geass _fans who are reading this, this is where we get the word "Geass" from. ;) ), bestowed madness upon him and eventually he was mortally wounded by his own spear. However, he refused to fall in battle and therefore he lashed himself to a stone pillar and died on his feet. The only one to disturb him was Morrigan who took on the form of a raven and perched herself upon his shoulder.

(5) German for "War." If you want an example of Nazi German war listen to the Major's "I Love War" speech from Hellsing OVA 4. Here's the YouTube link www. youtube watch ?v= KUB9QGKCNmI (remove the spaces, and add the punctuation is picky about that. :P )

(6) Indirect reference to Revelation . War, Plague, Famine and Death were said to be the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse that would come when the Lamb of God would open the first four seals of the World's Fate.

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	13. XII: Nothing Covered

A/N: ACK! I can't believe it's been almost a year and I haven't written anything! I cannot count how many apologies I have to give to you guys. Not only did I have to take summer classes, I also had to take an extra course to make of for this class I tanked. I've been so wrapped up in trying to ace this class that I completely forgot about writing. Not only that, I had to help my editor **Jedi Skysinger** with her recent _Burn Notice _FF: "What We Leave Behind." Plus I got grounded for a WHOLE month which put me WAY behind in my update! AND to top all of that I had writer's block, AGAIN! Anyway, now that's out of the way, I hope you all have been good, because here's the next chapter of _Trinity Blood: Revelations_! ;) Today we shall be playing host to a certain Know Faith priest and a certain maid whom we all love to hate. Enjoy!

**Chapter XII: Nothing Covered ()**

_The human heart has hidden treasures,  
__In secret kept and silence sealed;  
__The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
__Whose charms were broken if revealed  
__- _Charlotte Brontë, _"Evening Solace"__  
_

_"__The human heart dares not stay away too long from that which hurt it most.  
There is a return journey to anguish that few of us are released from making.__"_  
- Lillian Smith

**Earlier That Evening**

After an eternity of crashing lips and heaving mixed breaths did the destined ones finally break from their kiss.

Abel was the first to open his eyes and look upon his beloved. Her cheeks, even in the darkness of the Ghetto, were a lovely shade of flushed pink and her eyelashes sparkled from crystalline dew, her cherry red lips swollen from kisses... his kisses. Even in shadow, his star's beauty still reached him and took his breath away.

After a series of endless seconds of catching her breath did Esther finally open her eyes, those breathtaking lapis lazuli pools brimming with moisture.

"Abel, I..."

"Shh," he whispered, touching her opened mouth with his fingers while taking in the sound of his name that came forth from her lips, for the first time, without the usual honorific. If only she could hear the beating of his heart like his wings in flight at the feelings of his joyous reverie.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead as he caressed her face and then pulled her into his arms.

"Close your eyes and don't peek. No matter what you hear or what happens keep your eyes closed," Father Nightroad whispered into her ear.

She nearly protested with, "But I have already seen-" before he cut her off.

"Trust me, Esther, please."

She complied and buried her face into his neck.

After a long, torturous ride through the elevator, the priest was met with a guesome sight. Bodies of both enemy and ally were spread out upon the carpeted floors and those who had outlived the unfortunate ones, held the duty of removing their corpses with pangs of woe, grief and weariness upon their visage. Many among the survivors were soldiers, others palace guards and some being the staff of Buckingham.

Abel knew this would be the sight Esther would have seen and knew of the guilt and grief that would scar her in this moment had it not been for his intervention. Knowing his love, she would have broken down in sorrow knowing they died for her when no one had needed to die.

He, too, shared that belief and he, too, felt the need to break, had it not been for the woman in his arms. She needed him now and this was a time he needed to be strong for her. In all those times he didn't protect her, he had vowed he would do so now, even from herself. There would be a time to mourn for those who were lost this night, but in the present moment, seeing to her comfort was what he had to do. Holding her closer to his arms as a means to keep himself from splitting apart at the seams, he finally made his way to her chambers.

Once he had reached her guild-ed doors. he crossed the threshold and kept the terrors of the world locked outside, where they belonged.

"Open your eyes."

She rose her head up from his shoulder and abided a moment before she asked, "Why?"

Despite the multitude of meaning within her question, Abel knew the answer.

"I don't want you to get hurt again, not at my expense."

Esther then pulled his face closer and whispered against his mouth, "If you don't want to hurt me, don't leave my side."

Once more their lips met in a passionate dance. Abel continued to hold her until he lowered her onto her bed, never breaking their kiss, as he knelt beside her.

Esther's hands then traveled from his shoulders, to his throat, to his cheeks and then tangled into the silver stands of hair, her fingers memorizing the feel of the rivers of platinum threads as she found the base of his neck and pulled him ever so close.

The priest felt a stirring of passion he had not felt in the the long centuries he had spent in darkness. The feeling, once known but believed lost, had returned, renewed by the joy of new-found love, willingly accepted and returned. As she pressed closer, he could only revel in these returned sensations until the voice of chastity began to urgently speak to his clouded mind. It was then he knew that if he continued, his self-control would be cast aside.

Breaking their kiss, he had in turn kissed her cheeks as she caught her breath, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against his own as he rested his forehead against hers.

Esther opened her eyes and smiled dreamily at him. She had never felt this before, but she felt her soul knew that this is what she had wanted and this is what she had longed for in her decades of existence. She caressed his cheeks to ascertain that her Angel was with her and this was not a dream.

She let out a small yawn and Abel in turn whispered, "It's late, you should sleep."

"Do you promise to still be here when I wake up?"

He kissed her eyelids and gave his answer.

"I promise."

†

**The Next Day**

Father Václav Havel, AX Agent "Know Faith," felt a deep sense of foreboding after return from Morning Mass after completing a forty-eight hour surveillance on Emmanuel D'Annunzio. His pretense that he was going to spy on Caterina when he was in fact going to report to her was readily accepted by the Archbishop, who could not wait for the mission to bear fruit.

This wasn't the first time. He normally felt like this before a great calamity or when he felt like someone close to him was in danger. It was Václav's belief that God had given him this "sixth sense," as Father Nightroad called it, so he may be able to prevent said calamities and misfortunes.

Nothing, however, could have prepared him for this.

He followed his instincts, which led him to Cardinal Sforza's office. After he opened the door, he was met with a horrid sight. Lady Caterina, the woman who he had viewed as a daughter for over fifteen years, was convulsing on her desk while lying in a pool of blood that she was still coughing up.

"My Lady!" He rushed over to her side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she went limp in his grasp.

Almost an eternity passed as he held her, waiting for the paroxysm to end. The only thing to do was to wait until the tremors ceased.

Many within the Vatican adored and admired the Duchess of Milan for her strength and iron will and her charisma; however, seeing her like this reminded Havel how frail she was. He knew from being her Father Confessor and her most trusted comrade that her heart was filled with desire for vengeance for losing her mother. Caterina had also confessed that she felt horribly guilty for having used her own blood brother as a political sacrifice in her quest for retribution. He was the only family that she had left besides Cardinal di Medici and she had used him and hurt him in ways he may never forgive her for. Knowing all of this, Václav knew that even though she was strong in the face of adversary, inside she was a fragile, emotional woman.

Not only was her heart adulterated with vengeance and guilt, her heart was debilitated by a chronic disease and her body suffered from tuberculosis.

Caterina was very weak.

Father Havel did the only thing he knew how to do: pray. He prayed that God would continue to give her strength, prayed that her heart would gain the strength it needed to go on and prayed that her body would fight this canker.

In times like these, he dared not, could not, doubt that God had heard him. Even though he had doubted whether or not He cared about the state of the world because God hated those who oppressed the weak, but yet such people existed. In his time in the Inquisition, he had seen how those who had strength and power tormented those who had none. He knew God hated those who held riches but did nothing with their gifts to help their fellow man that were starving to death, but yet He had given them their fortunes to squander and waste in the first place. He knew that God hated slaughter but yet He did nothing to stop the one who had committed the act. If He cared about those in his service, why did He give Caterina these maladies that He knew would trouble her later in life and possibly take her life?

As confusion entered his mind, Caterina's steel-blue eyes then miraculously opened, answering his prayer.

If He did care, why did the innocent have to suffer and where was He in this fallen world?

†

**Earlier**

After last night's ensuing battle, the weather had, ironically enough, turned cold and snow and ice had begun to rain down upon the once battered and bloodied sight that was Buckingham Palace. Even though the guards had cleaned up the bodies and the servants had removed the blood both outside and within the palace walls, the weariness of battle was still upon those who had fought and to them the storm was a reminder that no matter whom one was, either Terran or Methuselah, no one could escape death.

Eventually, the wind had kicked up and soon the snowfall became a blizzard, flying with the swift wings of the Angel of Death. All those who were unprotected could have been caught its icy chill to their demise. Such a storm was not uncommon during the beginning of winter in Londinium. However to Horace Ethridge, the former Lord of Appeal, the whipping winds resembled the low howling of a hungry wolf and he was soon to be its next meal. The ice outside reminded him of a certain Italian poet's epoch through Hell.

To him, the last ring of Hell was cold and it was reserved for traitors such as Judas Iscariot and Brutus. Mr. Ethridge held no doubt that Adam Sutler, his former leader and inspiration, was waiting for him there and he was soon to join him for his treachery against not only Albion, but also to the Knights of Tudor. His offense had been not only to Crown and Country, but his Order as well.

He was damned and nothing was going to change that fact. Even though he had been promised penance in this life, there was no escaping his fate in the next world.

Even the illusion of safety within the palace walls could not take away the chill that broke down his spine at the possibility that he was going to meet death today, especially at the hands of the devils that were the Order of Rosenkreuz.

"_Pulvis et umbra sumes._(1)" Horace Ethridge whispered, acknowledging the dark fate he placed upon himself.

†

My name is Edith and I'm a servant of the Albian Queen.

Okay, scratch that last part, I'm a servant of that high-and-mighty "lady saint" who became a queen. No doubt the Vatican had to forge documentation to enable that Hungarian orphan girl to sit on the Throne of Roses that probably didn't belong to her, just as it didn't rightfully belong to that militaristic bastard, Mary.

Of course, I cannot openly complain about that or say such things to their faces without Mary glaring daggers at me to the point of submission.

Take today, for example. First, vampires attacked the palace and I had to dirty my hands with blood from vampire corpses because everyone knows that servants have to clean up the mess the military leaves behind. Second, despite working all night to clean the mess, I have to still wash "Her Holiness'" sheets, make her bed, wash, iron and mend her clothes, sweep the halls and the stairs, dust everything in sight, mop up all the floors to the point I can see my own reflection in them, clean the carpets of stained blood, get rid of ruined furniture that was destroyed in last night's attack. Third, and this is the worst part, I have to listen to Sarah the Pit-bull, Death-Glare Erica and "oh-I'm-so-cute" Naomi give me orders for the rest of the evening. -How those peasants and that Hispanian girl became handmaidens and now rule the roost like butlers is beyond me.

In other words, I had a long day ahead of me and no one would appreciate me for it.

This is why I usually spread the latest gossip that you hear about "Her Holiness" to all the other maids in her service. Some of them adore her to the point they are blinded by so-called "morals" and to refuse to spread said gossip. Others who share my pain of serving under "Her Highness," they sympathize with me and then add their own embellishments to my latest news. But I have to be careful that Mary doesn't overhear me, or worse the Pit-bull, who wouldn't hesitate to report me to the Head Maid about demeaning "Her Majesty."

As I was on my way to collect Her Majesty's sheets, I noticed a group of military men heading toward the Privy Council Chamber. At the head of the column of men is someone I recognized, the Lord of Appeal Horace Ethridge. Following him is Mary, the Hellsing biyotch, a weird looking silver haired priest and a cloaked man carrying a staff, I don't give a rat's ass about what has transpired a second glance. I've got work to do and the sooner I get it done, the sooner I can let out my frustration about working for "Her Holiness" to a fellow maid.

That was until... I ran into a strange devilishly handsome man in a black uniform. I hadn't seen him before; at least I was pretty sure I hadn't. I would have remembered someone like him. He was very compelling, almost hypnotic. I knew I'd get in trouble if I was caught talking to him instead of doing my job, but somehow I didn't care anymore. I had to speak to him, I just _had to.  
_

Mary Spencer looked down the line of troops with a cool eye. For the most part, they were exactly what she wanted and expected of a group guarding such a high profile prisoner, except the last two in line. They were recent transfers from Scotia, which was where they sent soldiers to remind them of the consequences of breaking with military discipline.

As if to prove her point, the last one in line was now talking with one of the maids. What was her name again? Ah yes, Edith, the gossiping troublemaker. What was that old saw about birds of a feather? Edith had picked the most likely of them to break discipline and flirt with her.

As the line of soldiers moved forward, escorting Mr. Ethridge into the Council Room for his debriefing, Colonel Spencer stood to the side watching him as he glanced hurriedly at her before turning his attention back to the maid. Edith reached out and swept her hand over the man's cheek. Mary had had enough as she strode down the hallway towards them

"This is why you were transferred to Scotia in the first place!" she barked, as the maid beat a hasty retreat away from the conflict. "And don't think you are getting out of this either. Expect that the Head Maid will hear about this!"

Colonel Spencer was still grumbling as she came back into the Council Room, watching the placement of the guard.

"Problem?" Sir Integra inquired.

"New recruits transferred from Scotia. They seem distracted by the scenery at court."

"Typical," the "Duke" of Lancaster scoffed. "Always thinking with their little heads instead of their big ones."

It was then the two women's attention turned to Father Nightroad whose face was glowing with heated embarrassment, whereas Hugue looked upon the man in question with cool indifference. At this point, Abel's glasses slid comically off his nose and his countenance would have been laughable had it not been for the situation. Hugue, on the other hand looked upon "Sir" Integra with a disapproving eye.

"Excuse me...?" Abel stammered.

Integra repressed a giggle and snorted "Oh, I forgot we had a priest present, Mary. Is our conversation too much for your chaste ears, Father?" she snarked.

The priest's face grew even redder until Mary stated coldly, "This is not the time for this inane prattle. I suggest we commence this interrogation. Her Majesty wanted to be present for this."

"I'll get to that," Abel stated, more than happy to have a reason to be elsewhere.

Soon Horace Ethridge, Lord of Appeal, found himself seated, bound and surrounded by a semi-circle of armed guards and faced with the quintet of Mary, Esther, Abel, Hugue and Integra. Colonel Spencer and "Lord" Hellsing stood closer to him, partially blocking his view of Esther, who was being overshadowed by the protective figures of the two priests.

Under their questioning, he began to reveal how the Order of Rosenkreuz had made contact with the Tudor Knights, how they promised his organization financial backing, weapons and access to places and people to aid in their effort to overthrow the monarchy and end Esther's reign, putting one of their own in her place.

As Mary Spencer was interrogating Horace, he had told her the events that lead to last night's attack. The attack was not just a arranged bloodbath in the hopes that the Albian Queen would be amongst the casualties, but also to attain certain lost technologies that the Order had deliberately had kept them in the dark about. Even though Mary had pressured him into telling him what the said technologies were and why they wanted them, he couldn't answer because the Order kept both him and Mr. Heyer ignorant. He had also noted that the Order had sent them blindly into the fray in the hopes that the information they carried would die with them.

Finally, the information that the Order hoped would die along with Horace and Jasper had finally been disclosed. According to the former Lord of Appeal, the Germanic Court was deeply involved with the Order of Rosenkreuz. Mr. Ethridge relayed that the Germanic King was the unknowing puppet of the Contra Mundi. If one had access to Pre-Armageddon records, one would take notice to the similarities between the current events to the incidents in Germanicus over a thousand years ago. During that time, the Prime Minister was fooled by the High Chancellor and his armed thugs, who were merely pretending to be a political party with the interests of the people at heart which lead to the Preliminary War. That war was the interlude between the first Great War and the ultimate war that nearly ended mankind.

The previous King's involvement with the Rosenkreuz eventually led to his death, such is the hallmark of evil, betrayal at their hands. The current king, Ludwig II- or as he was infamously nicknamed Ludwig the Bloody- had been trying to wipe them out in his pursuit of vengeance against those who killed his father. But according to Horace, the King was actually not killing the right people, and he didn't care, and the Rosenkreuz was seeing to it that their enemies were being destroyed at his hand. Mr. Ethridge barked a short laugh that the head of the Germanic secret police was actually their puppet, secretly doing their bidding instead of obeying the King's intention to eliminate the organization from his court and his country.

Eventually the disgraced politician had recounted that if the Knights of Tudor's plans to kill the Queen had come to naught, the Enemies of the World would then pick up where they left off. They would not only ascertain the demise of the "witch" but also bring death to the nations that they held with contempt: the Vatican and the Empire. Horace then expressed great fear in knowing that their plan involving the Holy Mother Church was soon to spring into action, especially with the help of a certain prelate and someone by the name of "Cherubim.(2)" However, the Rosenkreuz had kept them on a need-to-know basis about this particular scheme and specifically who was the said "holy man" involved. But Mr. Ethridge had known who was to be sent to Rome to perform this operation.

"Who is he?" the Colonel demanded. "What do you know of this agent? Talk!"

"He's... inspiring, but at the same time... frightening." Horace had visibly shivered. "If he knew I talked, you cannot imagine the torture I would be put through at his hands."

This was not a comforting thought. If such a hardened man such as Horace Ethridge was trembling from just merely mentioning this agent, then God only knew how terrible this monster truly was.

"I need a name, Ethridge," Mary cut in icily. "Who is he?!"

There was an eruption of noise at the back of the room, but Colonel Spencer was so intent on the man in front of her that she didn't pay attention. Sir Integra, on the other hand, saw the solider that Mary had chided move out of the line and draw his weapon. But her attention and her warning cry was far too little, far too late.

"He is Duke-" Horace began, but the rest was cut off when a metal shell entered his heart and the sound of the shot echoed through the chamber.

Abel's reaction was immediate, which was good as the next shot fired came hurdling towards Esther. But the redhead was already behind the priest and the metal object intended for her demise was already in his hand.

The guards' reactions were instantaneous. Before Abel could order them not to shoot, they had already blasted the soldier in question, cutting the man to pieces with a hail of automatic weapons fire. His bullet ridden corpse was still twitching and jerking as the priest knelt beside him. He was dead, but his movements were inconsistent with leftover nerve impulses animating his body. Something was going on.

It took the Queen longer than Father Nightroad to react and move from where she had previously stood being shielded by her black robed guardian to come stand by his side as he was bent over examining the bleeding remains of her would-be assassin. Colonel Spencer was barking orders, reordering the troops present and calling for others. Sir Integra left her position as well to come to stand beside Esther, partially to support and partially to protect her liege. Hugue immediately was at the door with his sword held aloft as to keep away any who dared to take the life of the Queen in the current state of crisis.

The look on his face, the concern in those winter blue eyes behind the glasses when he turned to face the two women and the second priest left no doubt in their minds that something was very wrong indeed. The white gloved hand rose from the bloody destruction before him with a stain of red on the fingers that pinched something unseen between them. They both stared, trying to see what he was holding. Esther understood, rather than saw, what it was before Integra finally asked in frustration.

"What kind of infernal thing is that you have there?"

"It's a..." the redhead stammered. She couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it, but no other explanation made sense.

"A puppet string," intoned the priest gravely. He rose swiftly to his feet and went to Mary's side. "I need to know. Was anyone touching this man before we entered the council chamber?"

"Yes," she answered sharply. "I reprimanded him for flirting with one of the maids." She made a disgusted sound and turned towards the camera which fed into the room where the Queen's handmaidens and the Count of Memphis had been monitoring the interrogation along with the Walsh siblings.

"Sarah," she barked. "Fetch Edith immediately and I want her alive if you don't mind," she finished tightly.

"No," Abel contradicted flatly. "Belay that order. It's too dangerous for them, for anyone. If it's what I think it is, then I'm the only one who can-"

"Do you really think it's-" Esther faltered as she tried to read any hint of doubt in his expression. But his stern visage left no doubt what was on his mind. "But how can it, how can he-"

"Apparently, I'm not the only one who's returned from the dead."

"What the bloody hell are you two prattling on about?" Integra finally demanded, frustrated by the lack of coherent, complete sentences.

"An agent of the Order of Rosenkreuz, who was presumed dead, has returned it would seem," Colonel Spencer cut in. "How many times do we have to kill Dietrich von Lohengrin before he finally stays dead?!"

"I'll see what I can do," the AX enforcer responded. He was already turning towards the door when the Queen reached out and laid a restraining hand on his arm.

"Please be careful," she pleaded. As much as she hated the fact that he would be facing a powerful enemy alone, her memories of their last encounter with Dietrich kept her from insisting on going along this time. It was because of her interference that her beloved had been fatally wounded.

"Just stay here." It sounded like an order to all but Esther's ears. The redhead clearly heard his plea for her safety in that request.

"I will," she promised. He nodded towards her, a hint of a smile on his lips, and then he became all business. "Seal off the entrance to the Ghetto"" He stated before he swept past Hugue with his black robes fluttering like dark wings as he made his exit.

†

However, right after Abel walked out the double doors separating him from Esther, the handmaiden Mary called upon earlier- Sara or Sarah, what was her name again?- barred him from completing his assigned objective.

"I'm sorry, priest, but you've been summoned by the Earl of Manchester. I'm here to escort you to him," she said with dripping sarcasm on the word "priest," and cast him a glare that would have given him silent chills if he was in the mood to be impressed. Unfortunately now was not the time to let this girl interfere with his mission.

"Tell him I'm going to have to save his invitation for later. I have to-" he nearly matched her glare with his own words of ice until she interrupted whilst brandishing a stiletto that she retrieved from her sleeve.

"I'm afraid Lord Walsh _insists_. Don't force me to bring you to him," she finished on a cold tone.

Abel considered the two options before him; ignore the girl's request, no... _Demand_ and be forced to fight with her, or abide by the Earl's wish and give the possessed maid a chance to escape. It was then _they_ realized that a Terran, a being beyond inferior to _them_, especially a woman, had dared to challenge him. But before the Crusnik could demand to reveal itself and show her true fear, he gave his reply, whilst masking his internal struggle with a challenging grin.

"I guess I have no choice but to go to him then and be appreciative of your escort," Abel returned.

"Follow me," she demanded.

Through the hallway and down the hidden elevator into the monitor room, the priest and the Queen's servant walked in a tense silence that reminded Abel of a time in the past when he would have been the source of tension. He noted the irony that, over nine-hundred years later, the roles had been reversed and now he was the one on the receiving end of a cold glare from an embittered Albian, a look that no human should ever have possessed.

Only after taking a slight glance at the girl did he take note that she looked familiar. He had seen those semi-curled blonde locks of hair and recalled similar saxe-blue eyes that were slightly obscured by spectacles. Her appearance reminded him of someone else that he met nearly twenty-four hours ago, but her expression put him in mind of the lost boy that he once was.

"Uh, may I ask..." he nearly began until the handmaiden cut him off.

"You just asked. What?" she demanded in her characteristic frosty tone.

"Are you any relation to Dame Ruth Buchanan?"

"Other than the fact she's my biological mother, no, I can't think of any."

"I see then, you're her daughter. You look like her."

"I shall take that as a compliment," she said with a tone that meant the opposite.

Finally, they reached their destination in front of an automatic sliding door. Sarah then placed her hand on a palm identification device and then lowered her glasses so the retina scanner could get a better identification.

"Access Granted. Welcome, Lady Buchanan," a feminine computerized voice answered from beyond the door before they slid open. They beheld the Methuselah nobleman, along with his sister and the other two handmaidens.

"Thank you, Miss Sarah," the Earl stated in gratitude, his coal-grey overcoat swishing about his legs with the swift movement as he walked over to the girl and gave a slight bow. His attention then turned to the remaining persons in the room and quietly commanded "Leave us. I wish to speak to him alone."

The two remaining girls left with Sarah, while Vanessa glided past her brother after whispering to him a faint "I hope you know what you're doing," before she made her exit.

And then the priest and the vampire were alone.

"You look like you're doing well," Abel remarked.

"Mr. Ethridge was a good doctor, he not only tended to my wounds, but gave me Aqua Vitae which sped up the healing process, and he also did the same for the Count of Memphis, Lord Ion, in atonement for what he and his former comrades did to him earlier. Lord Ion was reluctant, of course, until I spoke up in his defense." Virgil trailed off

"I can see why he would be, and he can be stubborn to a fault."

"Indeed, but we're not here to discuss the Count. I ordered Sarah to bring you here so we could talk about your condition."

"My condition?"

"The Crusnik."

Abel stared at the nobleman in shock. How did he know what he was? If that was the case, then he must also have known _who_ he once was. Why is it that when he had headed back to Albion, God had placed in his path so many individuals who had known those secrets about himself and yet he had never met them before? First the Sybil, then Ruth, now Lord Walsh? What was this world coming to?

Virgil let the priest gather his wits again before he plainly spoke. "When was the last time you fed on the blood of a Methuselah?"

Abel turned his head away because he knew that Virgil had the answer.

"If_ you _wish to remain with Her Majesty and protect her, then _you_ need to assure that your... _other side _is not going to inadvertently hurt her. In other words, I need you in prime condition. I noticed after the battle that you showed minor signs of injury and of thirst, while not many Methuselah have the same self-control that you possess." Lord Walsh could already see the denial forming on Father Nightroad's face, so he pressed harder.

"You already _know_ it won't last and eventually the Crusnik could take over your mind. Once they force you to feed, you know that given _their_ nature, _they_ won't be satisfied. After having fed once, _they'll_ keep glutting _themselves_ on more Kudluk Bacillus until _their_ thirst is quenched. I wouldn't want to count how many Methuselah would die if they do decide to take control."

"I won't let _them_ take my mind, not like..." Abel tried to argue, but Virgil interrupted.

"There's another topic of concern besides the inevitable hunger you feel. If this_ is _Dietrich von Lohengrin of the Rosenkreuz, you need to face him in your highest strength. According Her Majesty, after the last time you faced him without drinking blood, the Crusnik backlashed on you. We cannot allow that to happen in this fight. So this is why..." as he spoke the next words, he undid the red ascot around his neck and undid the collar button on his shirt. "I am willing to give you my blood."

Abel's eyes widened. His Crusnik senses became alert to the sight of fresh prey. Instead of looking upon the nobleman, he saw the crimson streams that were his circulatory system that lay below his skin. Those winter blue eyes could not move from the where the blood ran it's thickest at the jugular vein in his throat.

Abel shut his eyes at the sight, attempting to hold _them_ in check; however, his ears picked of the sound of a beating heart that further drove his urge to _feed_. In that moment, he felt his canines extend past his lips, beyond his gritted teeth.

"No," he rasped. "I can't... not like this..."

"You must, if you wish to protect Her Majesty. I am doing this because I, too, wish to protect her, for the sake of someone that was dear to me, and you seem to be the best individual to fulfill her wish. You are far beyond worthy of Her Majesty's favor. I have seen during these last twenty-four hours, despite what you once were, that you have repented of what you have done. That is the virtue that I find most honorable in you, which is why I am willing to give you blood.(3)"

"No, I don't want Esther or anyone to think that I'm-"

"She will understand. So now..." the Earl then lowered his collar further down and, in that second, crimson eyes began to bleed into the crystal-blue irises, yet in those hunger-filled eyes, he saw hesitation.

"You wish to stop Dietrich and protect her, correct?" Virgil asked.

"Yes..." Abel strangled out.

"Then you know what you must do."

Right when the blonde nobleman braced himself for the inevitable pain, Abel began to button up his collar. "I don't intend on taking your blood like this."

He knelt before him and rolled up the coat and shirt sleeve to reveal Virgil's pale wrist. Then the Crusnik took control of their host and he bit into the vampire's skin.

†

One would have thought he was an idiot for making such a rash decision with complete impetuousness, but he didn't care. All he knew was he wasn't going to let someone else suffer the same fate as his late Tovarås.

After hearing the hated name of the Rosenkreuz agent that he wished dead from the moment they were introduced in the Imperial dungeons, Ion Fortuna then abandoned his post from the monitor room -whilst using his "haste" mode to conceal himself from the unwanted attention of his fellow near-immortals and the mortals within the room- and with his currently reinstated Methuselah abilities, he dashed through the exits looking for the possessed maid in hopes she would lead him to that blighted puppeteer.

The mere_ thought _of that man's twisted, _evil_ smile brought back the memories that he had tried to keep locked within the confines of his mind: his childhood friend, Radu Barvon, first with a gun aimed at the young Earl's chest in hopes of ending his life and terminating their friendship in the most final of ways.

Worse yet, the memory of the Baron of Luxor announcing his allegiance to the Imperial Extremists, whilst aiming the gun turret of a tank at him. And then his Tovarås last moments when he was apparently burned to death by the ultraviolet rays of the sun and then his heart pulverized out by Brother Petros' "Screamer." Then, in what he had thought was the most shocking moment, he saw Radu alive within the Empire, filing his mind with doubts about the girl he loved.

Despite how horrible those memories were, nothing could have compared to the one that dominated his mind. Radu, whispering to him his intention of killing the Empress... when he raised his sword to impale him in the forehead... then Radu... what little was left of his soul... attempted to warn Ion of the Order's intentions... only to be silenced forever by the one who had manipulated him.

Dietrich von Lohengrin.

_He_ was the main reason why he joined Father Nightroad in his quest to destroy the Order forever. That man had taken away almost everything that made Ion who he was three years ago. He had taken away Radu, the one who had stood by his side. The villain had besmirched his honor, a trait that he took great pride in himself, by framing him for the murder of his own grandmother, the relative he most admired, and making him a fugitive within his own homeland. The worst of all that bastard had attempted to take Esther from him in hopes that he would kill her with his own fangs.

All he could think now was that he had to put an end to the Puppeteer once and for all. To not only restore Radu's lost honor, but also to protect Esther from the man that she feared. That day when they were officially introduced, Esther, in whom Ion had always seen great courage, had been trembling in terror when she realized who had taken over the shell of his friend.

The Count of Memphis then filled his mind with ways he could end that damned Terran's life. He could drink him dry, down to the last red blood cell of his body, but then he thought otherwise. There was no way in Hades that he was going to put the cursed blood of that _Marionettenspiler_ in him, and make him the "vampire" that insensible Terrans feared. The idea that he had found most appealing was to take his sword and impale him in the head, like the fiend intended Radu's possessed form to do to the young Earl right in front of his grandmother in her guise as the Empress before the ghost of Radu that remained in the shell of his body had intervened.

Once in the lower levels of the palace, he found the maid attempting to access the Ghetto. The exit was in the process of being sealed. The possessed form of Edith was tapping codes into the pad to the right of the elevator doors at a frantic pace, but to no avail. Only Esther's DNA could open the doors, which had closed too far for her to enter, but somehow an untrained maid was programming like a master hacker. However, Ion knew that a master hacker was guiding her movements.

But before Ion could move to strike at the maid, Edith had uttered in a distorted voice like someone was speaking though her; "I'm quite surprised that you finally came back. What possessed you to return after two years, Crusnik 02?"

It was then the Ion realized that his target wasn't talking to him, but rather to the priest that faced his current opponent.

And he was fortunate that he didn't see him from where he hid in the shadows, because when he looked upon him- his sub-zero glare was bad enough!- he saw a blood red hue ensuing from the icy depths that were his eyes.

Suddenly his entire physical being was screaming at him to get away before things got worse.

He didn't listen and was about to regret that he hadn't done so earlier.

As "Edith" turned to face her opponent, she noticed the young vampire hiding in the shadows. The maid cracked a smile that was so sadistic it obviously originated from the one controlling her.

"Why Ion, you're here, too. How appropriate that you two should be the ones to face me. Though, even with your intense hatreds of me-"

"'Hatred' doesn't even begin to describe how I feel towards the likes of YOU!" Ion screeched, "If it weren't for you, Radu would still be alive!"

"Enough, Ion!" Abel commanded sternly, "I know you want to kill him, but she isn't the one you want to take your anger out on."

"Edith" chuckled, "How amusing, since we're on the subject of Radu, I didn't see you hesitate to activate the Crusnik when I possessed him. What makes this girl so different from him? And you even went so far as to attempt to activate the Crusnik to full power back then, why don't you use them to that extent right now?"

"Radu was already dead before I reached you." Abel stated coldly. "And since you think you know so much about me, you should already know that answer."

"Then why don't you speak your reasons aloud? I'm certain the vampire next to you would love to hear the answer about how you attempted to put an end to his dear Tovarås AND about the one who actually caused his demise. Besides it wasn't me who turned _Flammenschert_ to salt and ash."

"What is he talking about?"

"You didn't know? Your Beloved Empress was the one who caused the Baron of Luxor to die."

"She was trying to destroy you!" The young Count shrieked.

"Oh, you really are so innocent, aren't you? How odd for one of your kind to maintain such ignorance. Aren't you going to enlighten him, priest? Aren't you going to let him know that the only reason that you didn't crush dear Radu with the beast inside you is that you'd forgotten to feed _them_? How absent-minded of you!"

"Enough!" Abel shouted as his grip on the revolver tightened with suppressed rage.

"No I don't think I will. The boy needs to know, especially with the involvement that the Duchess of Kiev and dear, sweet, Esther had in the attempted demise of his 'friend.' Had I not stopped the vampiress with fire, she would have killed me without any regret, and of course, Esther would have met her fate had 'Lord' Abel directed my attention elsewhere. And where were you when all of this occurred? Waiting outside until the battle was over because you couldn't lift a finger to aid your dear Tovarås, or the girl that you cared so much for. If that isn't cowardice, I don't know what is."

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR VILE WORDS!" Ion snapped, "YE DAMNED TERRAN, YOU WILL DIE!"

"ION, DON'T!"

The young Methuselah noble unsheathed his sword, shrieking his fury as he rushed towards the possessed maid with every intention of eviscerating her. Now, he had no choice. Father Nightroad had to act.

"Nanomachines: Crusnik 02. Power output to 40%. Activate!"

In an instant before the possessed maid there appeared a fallen being with crimson eyes. Each strand of hair formed a silver diadem upon the creature's brow and protruding from its blackened-blue lips were fangs sharper than knives. In the being's taloned hand emerged a distorted, blood-red scythe.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, Ion's mad rush ended abruptly as "Edith" waved her hand in his direction and the Count of Memphis was then bound in a web of electrically charged strings, binding him and digging into his skin... into his nervous system.

Ion let out a scream as Abel roared and rounded on the servant. Without giving its opponent a chance to strike, the Crusnik made its first fell sweep, destroying all but the intended target. The maid, having gracefully evaded him, unleashed numerous strings and attempted to bind the creature before her. The priest evaded them, thanks to his superior speed; however, he could not dodge the next attack of his companion's scimitar. It drilled into his ribs and then protruded through his chest.

The Crusnik's cry of pain echoed throughout the hallways as the bewitched maid began to giggle, enjoying the show before her as the blonde youth withdrew the blade, preparing for another strike. Abel nearly collapsed from the pain that rampaged through his system, but what was even more difficult was hearing _them_ demand more freedom.

The priest knew better than to let _them_ do as they pleased, especially with Ion and the possessed girl being present. However, the temptation was becoming unbearable with the raw agony that was surging through his system. While _they_ literally began crying out for blood he blocked Ion's second attack with his scythe. The blades met and the distorted music of grinding metal met their ears. It was in that moment that Abel desperately looked at the Count, whose eyes were widened in great fear and shock, not at the creature before him, but at the fact he had done the unthinkable. His sword had wounded Father Nightroad in his current state of Crusnik capacity and he was forced to fight a being that could kill him in three seconds. All the while the girl began to laugh with fresh taunts ensuing from her lips.

"Did you honestly think I was going to repeat the same mistakes of two years prior? I wouldn't dare face you when you've drunken the blood of vampires, especially with this new shell, so to solve that issue I had your little friend take care of that for me. Mind you, I don't really care about talking through a maid of all things, but she was foolish enough to have sought me out for her own pleasure. I had to take the opportunity that presented itself to me and to imagine that you attempted use _them_ on a defenseless, human girl." _Edith_ giggled. "What shall you do now?"

_What indeed? _Father Nightroad began racking his brain for a solution. But he was rapidly running out of options other than to use_ them _at their highest capacity. Suddenly, a miracle presented itself: the wires binding the Crusnik and the Methuselah snapped.

"What the-" _Edith _gasped and the next minute she was staring in horror at the dagger protruding from her palm. Once the strings had snapped, Ion took his opportunity to quickly grab his hidden knife and assure that the fell monster wouldn't attempt to play them the same way he did earlier. Before she could utter a scream, she was pinned on the ground by the fallen beast with its claw at _her_ throat, the force of impact causing all the air to rush from the possessed maid's lungs.

**"Tell me who you really are! Why are you targeting Esther?! And more importantly, who are you working for?!" **

_Edith_ choked out a laugh before responding; "One, I can't answer the first question. The answer is so obvious that no doubt that even someone as stupid as you can figure out. As for the second question, its simple. _Mien Herr _wants her dead. If you think I'll be the last to pursue her, you are gravely mistaken. I'm only the beginning and it will only end when she's dead."

And with one last laugh, the maid named Edith breathed her last.

All that could be heard were Ion's shuddering breaths as he watched Father Nightroad return to his human form and the sorrow-laden cry of the priest along with the metallic roar of the Crusnik combined.

†

Unseen by the priest and the nobleman, hiding in the shadows, was a woman garbed in a cloak blacker than the night over a pure white dress. During the fight with the technologically controlled maid, she could not stand by as the Dark Angel and the Boy of Fortune were forced to fight one another and dance as if puppets to the tune of that cursed advocate of the Angel of Death. Had the one possessing her been of the Shadow, she could have saved her. No, she _chose_ to associate herself with the advocate, even if she was truly possessed, she still would have suffered the fate he placed upon her.

As the fight progressed, the puppeteer further tormented the Dark Angel and his companion. She knew if she didn't intervene those damnable creatures flowing through the Dark Angel's veins would have taken him over and would have forced him to do the unthinkable and thus, bring forth further suffering on his account.

She knew she should not, could not be seen. So to aid him, she had commanded the air particles to interfere the electrical current running through the technological twines thereby counteracting the current within the strings with her own force of electricity, thus forcing the threads to snap.

Then, when that monster in human skin took the life of the maid as a means to spite the Dark Angel, all she could do was repress the swelling rage within her to prevent herself from finding the advocate and curse him there on the spot. But that was not her calling and her power did not work in that regard. However, what had occurred afterwards had broken her heart once more, just like that day she had first awakened.

The Dark Angel was crying out in agony, as he held the body of the one he attempted to save, and the Boy of Fortune was standing there in guilt and regret, shedding his own tears. As she watched the priest shed tears of his own blood, she clenched her fingers over her heart, almost like she shared his grief and sorrow and crystalline tears began to fall from her hidden winter-lake colored eyes.

†

The Count of Memphis could only watch in sorrow and remorse as his companion cried. When the youth had rushed from the monitor room to confront the foe that had taken so much from him, his only thought was revenge. He hadn't given any consideration as to how he would defeat this enemy without causing the death of the young woman over whose body the priest now mourned. Worse yet, he had also attacked Father Nightroad under the direction of that foul being. Shouldering the blame, albeit well placed, for the fiasco in front of him would not alter what had happened, but Ion felt the weight of it nonetheless.

The vampire approached the hunched figure silently, unsure what words he could offer, if any, that would adequately address the situation.

"**Go, Ion,"** the voice was a raspy imitation of his normal tone. **"Go now."**

"Father Nightroad, I-"

"**Don't. Just leave.** Leave now."

But the young nobleman was rooted to the spot. "No, Father, I should-"

"What you should have done-" responded the silver haired man, as he raised his head to deliver a cold stare to the boy. "-is stayed in with the Earl of Manchester where you belonged. Who would have protected Esther if this had been just a ruse to draw you away?"

"You needed-"

"I didn't need your sword in my back while-" The priest cut himself off. **"Take yourself to Lord Walsh, **_**now**_**." **The last words were tinged with metallic fury of the nanomachines that still clamored for control of the man, who stood before the Methuselah,

Ion knew better than to argue further. He moved swiftly past the tall figure of the AX agent before he became more than a man again.

†

To say the Queen of Albion was tense was something of an understatement.

Abel had been gone for too long. How long would it take to get a possessed maid back for questioning?

As that question rose up, many other doubts began to swim within her mind.

Was Abel hurt?

Was "Dietrich" torturing him?

Was Abel going to survive?

Was he forced to activate the Crusnik? If so, would he keep his sanity should he have been in use of it?

Once that question entered her mind, the memory of his violent resurrection came back.

The Dark Devil with his lurid eyes, cursing everything they saw. His body utterly blackened with alien-blue markings upon his skin like poisonous-blue rivers. His black feathered wings had become distorted, bladed wings. With those wings he soared out of the church like a bat out of hell, shattering the stained glass window in his wake, with a trail of darkness following behind him.

Did he blame her for what he was forced to become? After all, if she hadn't interfered, _he_ would probably be dead and _he_ would not have haunted her dreams every night. The world would probably be a safer place if it hadn't been for her foolish choice to follow _him_. And more importantly, Abel would not have spent two years seeking _him_ out and attempting to fix the sin that she committed.

Almost immediately after these thoughts darted through her mind, the priest in question had returned, but not in the state he left.

His cassock was torn open near his heart, like he had been stabbed and rips around his shoulders like electric wires had cut into him. There were with faint bloodstains upon the fabric due to freshly-healed wounds. His silver hair fell in cascades behind his back and his glasses were nowhere in sight. In his arms was the maid he had been ordered to retrieve, except... she wasn't breathing and a knife was imbedded in her palm. What was more heartbreaking than seeing the girl dead, more grievous than seeing him wounded, was the look of utter raw guilt and sorrow upon his visage that was intensified by his winter-lake eyes.

"I couldn't save her..." was all he uttered.

†

He was a monster.

He had failed _her_ again.

He had vowed to _her_ he would never take a life nor allow _anyone_ to die as an atonement for his sins.

Instead, the gruesome shooting that had occurred tonight right before his eyes had not led to him killing whoever had possessed the solider, nor had he succeeded in saving the maid who next had come under the spell. No, all he could do was watch as the girl die in his arms, almost at his own hands.

When Mary had demanded to know what had happened that resulted in Edith's demise, all he could do was rasp out whom he thought had killed her and that she needed a proper burial. Even though many disliked the late maid, the Colonel, the Head Maid and the handmaidens agreed that she deserved the honor of one who died in the Queen's service, along with those who had fallen in the previous battle.

Father Abel Nightroad sat among the statues of the royal garden, silent, unmoving and frozen, looking like one of their number. The lightly drifting snow accumulated on his shoulders and head, the same as theirs. He made no more move to brush it away than one of them would. The priest stared at the dry fountain in front of him and might have had cause to drawn a poetic analog between the barren condition of the empty pool and his own heart, but he did not see it at all.

In his mind was the vision of two red heads, the loves of his life, and he had failed them both so miserably. He had loved them both, he had lost them both and it was entirely his fault. Only somehow God in His Infinite Mercies had chosen not to let the stain of what he was take Esther from him. He was a cowardly, selfish creature to continue to be in her world. He would disappoint her one day yet again and that day the cost could be her life.

"_But you promised her you would stay by her side."_

He mentally sighed as the voice of his departed beloved seeped into his consciousness, her smiling visage totally understanding, an understanding he didn't deserve.

"I don't deserve her."

It was her turn to sigh. "_She loves you. Would you hurt her by denying her love? Would you cause her to suffer as you do?"_

"She doesn't know what I really am. She doesn't know what kind of monster she's given her heart to."

"_Abel,"_ she chided gently. "_She's seen you, all of you, time and again. Yes, you frightened her at first, but she's accepted you time and time again, in Carthage, the Empire and she has accepted you _here_ of all places, within the nation that created you. She's not afraid of you."_

"She should be."

"_It is your brother that she rightly fears. Will you leave her defenseless against his evil desires?"_

That sparked something deep in his heart, the need to protect her, the instinct that demanded he defend her against such wickedness. He was being a self-absorbing, self-pitying fool, moping by himself, when his place was there at her side to shield her.

Father Nightroad stood and shook the silver, white flakes from his silver white strands and brushed the remainder from his shoulders, squaring them and straightening his posture. He pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose and strode purposefully toward the palace. This was not about him, this was about her. His self-loathing, an art form unto itself, would only hinder his mission to safeguard the Queen and his only true love.

†

He had done it this time.

He had never taken the life of a Terran before and believed he possessed the cleanest record in the Empire, until today.

No form of repentance could remove the crimson stain for he had committed an act most unnatural being that he was involved in a foul murder(4).

If he had thought his plan through, he would have never gone down there and interfered and stained his hands with the blood of a human.

If he was the intelligent being he prided himself in, she would not have died.

His desire for revenge against that damn puppeteer and his impetuousness had killed her.

To make matters worse, Father Nightroad had gone so far as to _growl_ at him, something that has _never_ happened in the course of time he had known the priest. Back when he was a bigoted fool and deserved it many a time, Father Nightroad hadn't even raised a hand at him.

That proved to him that he had really pushed the proverbial envelope beyond recognition.

Even more so, what would Esther think of him now that he had done the worst crime he could commit?

Would she turn away from him, cast him aside; even go so far as to banish him under pain of death?

It was nothing more than he deserved and Ion Fortuna felt that he deserved to be cast into that ancient realm of punishment and chained to the Wheel of Ixion(4).

"Excellency."

He dared to look up from the carpeted floors of the Cross Gallery in the Albian Palace and met peridot eyes.

"Father de Watteau."

The Count of Memphis had most often seen this blonde priest alone, standing by ready for attack. Sometimes, he had seen him with that handmaiden -Erica, whatever her name was. Seeing the man before him now had somewhat alerted the young Methuselah that if he was going to speak to him, it was of great importance.

"You seem troubled."

That he spoke to him was strange enough, commenting on his visage and his apparent distress was quite out of character.

"I find myself... regretting some of my recent choices, yes..."

"Regret is a common emotion."

Ion remembered when he had first met the Sword Dancer, appearing to be nothing more than a heaving knot of seaweed and scaring the living daylights out of him in the process. After meeting him, the ship they were on was attacked by vampire bandits intent on stealing smuggled explosives heading for the Empire and wringing out Esther and Abel's blood to sell on the black market. As he looked at Hugue's eyes, he recalled that even then their opaqueness as a Terran was rather unique. He had also learned that the priest had artificial limbs, especially after his leg was caught in their grip, and learned that his biological arms were taken by Methuselah like himself.

He had guessed from looking at the pale priest, then and especially now, that he had much to regret as well. Though it seemed odd to share with someone he hardly knew, the young Count had the feeling that this man would understand.

"I... had always believed myself higher than those common vampires. I always thought I possessed an untainted reputation and I prided myself on that... However today... everything I believe and everything I prided myself on has been thrown into confusion. I..."

"Taken a life?"

"Inadvertently, yes. I have sought vengeance against this... monster for over three years, but I thought I never could because I believed him dead. But now… when I first heard that he was alive and was here, all I could think about was my desire to see my blade split his skull. And... in doing so, I have not taken his life... but the life of someone who wasn't involved in my revenge and I damaged my ally to the point that I'm certain he would not forgive me or would anyone else should they hear of what occurred. I'm... lost."

Hugue wasn't one for small talk and went right to the point. "This is exactly why you should not pursue a path of revenge. The regret you feel now will only be the first of many regrets, each regret more painful and more personal than the last."

Father de Wattaeu's tone was that of a strict mentor to a pupil, teaching him a lesson that would enlighten on the darkest of subjects. "There are different types of vengeance. There's the vengeance that is fueled by fire, by blind passionate rage, the vengeance that drags not only your enemy into the depths of the abyss but those who aren't involved and even allies, including yourself. Then there's the vengeance that is fueled by ice, a cold, collected hatred that ascertains the fall of your enemy. The vengeance that causes your enemy's permanent slide towards his own destruction, but that kind of revenge comes with a price."

"What kind of price?" Ion queried.

"Your soul. 'Those who live by the sword die by the sword.' Once you take someone's life, no matter how bad they were, the time will come when _you_ will be hunted. You must keep using your sword, even in self-defense, and so you commit more sins. Eventually, though, one day you'll be killed by another's blade... That is the way of the sword. I don't want anyone to suffer that fate and fall into that trap." As he finished the memory of that terrible, fateful day had returned from the depths of his consciousness. His home attacked by vampires, his entire family butchered before his eyes, his younger sister, swallowed in darkness ever since, and he, the young heir left for dead, both arms severed, as a stigma, from his being.

Hugue noted the irony that he had been giving his personal life lesson to a being which was the object of his hatred. Fortunately for the young Methuselah, Hugue had taken a liking to the youth, especially after he had saved him from those bloodsucking pirates. Furthermore, it seemed they both understood one another, seeing that when he first met the lad, Father de Wattaeu knew that they both held a similar regret. However the Imperial was more clean than he was; his hands not stained with the blood of countless lives, both guilty... and innocent, and that was what Hugue had admired in the Count.

It was then Ion Fortuna had interrupted his thoughts with his own muttering of a new regret. "I should have taken that woman's advice. I think she was warning me about something like this. And I didn't think about the consequences of not listening."

Hugue didn't know who Ion meant by "that woman" but he was not one to meddle in the affairs of others. "We can never know what could have been. All we can do is focus on what we can do to change the moment and our future.(6)"

"You're right. I need to quit brooding and speak with Esther and Father Nightroad." Ion pushed himself up off the ornate bench and left the darkness seated there behind him.

"That's a start, I wish you luck in your endevour."

Ion stared quizzedly at the priest for a moment and questioned; "I thought priests didn't believe in luck."

"How do think I've manged to stay alive this long?"

Ion smirked, before he made his departure. "Point taken," and then strove off to find those whose destinies were intertwined.

†

The Queen of Albion didn't feel very regal as she paced about her apartments, fretting about the unusual actions of the priest and the nobleman. That they were upset was obvious and they should be. Some mysterious force had overtaken a soldier and killed Horace Ethridge before they could get any useful information out of him. That same force had apparently murdered one of her household staff.

Fear plucked at her heart as to who might have been those attacks. _He was dead; it couldn't be him_. But that did not mean there was no one else that could do what he did. It was a technology, not an inherent talent. There could be more than person who could wield... couldn't there?

It didn't matter who _she_ thought it was, it mattered who Abel thought it was because apparently Father Nightroad was devastated. She'd seen him hurting, like that time in Carthage when she...

_She followed him to the restroom where the door was ajar and she heard his breath straining like painful intakes of air. It was dark in there, but she could make out the priest's frame. He hadn't seen her, but she knew there was something wrong, especially when she noticed the neck guard was undone. His hands were fisted at his sides and his face was covered in sweat. She noticed his eyes were glowing with a lurid light. A light that she had never seen in his characteristic winter blue depths that were normally filled with false hilarity and loneliness- they were filled with a dark hunger that was warring with a light of self-control. He was staring at this reflection in the mirror and commanded -apparently to himself- in a rasp_

"No... Don't come out. You must all remain... Crusnik."

That was the first time Abel had uttered that word in her presence, as that memory came into in her mind, another memory that she had repressed for the longest time came into being...

_ She had asked him the meaning of his words, but then when he attempted to hide himself from her, he had inadvertantly unleashed the rage that she had repressed for so long._

"You really don't trust me, do you? It's true I took action without consulting anyone... and I am an outsider. I may seem like a burden."

Then his stupid expression and half-assed excuse poured gasoline on the sparking fire that she had held within her heart.

"SO?! Is it your job to shoulder all the troubles in the world and also to protect me?"

She was so caught in her anger that she didn't take note of the silver-haired priest's shocked image and how white his skin had become.

"Father Tres told me... that I should ask you directly, but... you still won't tell me anything, Father! You dodge my questions. You've saved me, you've protected me... but I still don't know who- or what- you are!"

She felt the need to cry, but her ire kept the tears at bay as she grasped his cassock and shook him yelling, "Why? Do I not have the right to know? The necessary 'Level of Clearance?' Have... Have you ever thought about how it feels... to have your protector hide his true self from you?!"

Then Abel's eyes cast down, like he had seen over a millenia of sorrow and, knowing that he could not answer her and could not give a reason, because there was none to give that could satisfy her. All she could think about then was that she was in shock at her heated lash of words, not knowing the damage she had done to him.

At that reminiscence, she saw within her mind's eye the being that had haunted her dreams that night.

A black-winged berserk being had descended from a sky stained with fire and blood. Its silver hair formed a diadem upon its brow. Torn, black scraps of cloth were its robes, tinted blue, muscular skin had revealed itself through the tears. In its taloned clutch was a deformed blood-red scythe. It came closer to where she clutched the unconscious Methuselah aristocrat in her arms, as it came closer, all she could do was stare in fear at the monster before her. Her mind screaming that this... demon was not,

could not _be her gentle, Father Nightroad. However, another part of her, in that moment had told her that _this_ was what she had wanted to know and now she was reaping what she had sown. As it raised its claw towards Ion, all she could do was scream._

"NOOO! MONSTER!"

It was then she saw widened recognition in those crimson, blood-stained eyes.

"No... Please don't."

_**"Esther... it's alright..." **__the being rasped, as it came closer, a talon, a hairbreadth away attempting to wipe away her tears._

"Keep away from us! KEEP AWAY!" she shrieked in complete terror

_**"Esther..."**_

_The creature's scythe was cast away as it looked upon its distorted, deformed claws in acknowledgement of the great sins that it had committed._

_**"God forgive me... FORGIVE ME!"**_

All she could do was stare in shock at his howl of bereavement she heard within the depths of the immortal before her, the sorrow-laden cry of Abel Nightroad.

The knowledge that she had done the unthinkable to the one that had sworn to protect her had hurt her more than any pain that she endured over the seventeen years of her life. Even now, two years later, she still bore the scars of what she had done. However, that very evening, within the Medical Room of the _Iron Maiden II, _reminded her of another time when he had been hurt, not by her words, but by what he had forced her to endure at the sight of what he could become.

_She was in the medical room of the Vatican battleship, her mind's eye flashing images of that sight of Father Nightroad in that terrible form. He had heard _him_ from the depths of that creature, but what firghtened her more was his reaction to her antipon. Would he remind her about what she said at the inn and scare her again? Would he slap her again after she had failed him? After seeing this dark side of her beloved priest, would he continously show that form to her? After hearing his soft voice, she hid herself from him with unadulterated fright, saying that he might not see her again and he hoped that his message would reach her in her feigned sleep._

"About today, I repent of putting you in that situation. You were afraid, weren't you? Of course you were afraid. I'm afraid of myself. Did you know that? But I think it was more frightening for you."

"What do you mean by that?" _Esther asked him in the depths of her consciousness._

Abel, who had once looked so intoxicated by the destruction, had admitted to being afraid of himself? Esther hadn't known in that moment she was listening attentively to the priest's confession.

_In that moment the raw emotions of agony, despair and sorrow had broken through his mask of the unreliable, people-loving priest. His voice was laced with pain almost like he was vomiting blood. _

_"I am sorry, Miss Esther, so sorry that you had to see_ that. _What you saw, that was the mark_… _the mark of my sins..."_

Abel clammed up for a little while. Then he confessed: "Now you know the secret I was keeping. When I become that... I can no longer hold myself... No, I can no longer hold

them _back. That is why... If possible... I wanted to protect you from that. So that you would not be afraid of me."_

Esther raised her head as she heard a sorrowful smile in his voice. "Yes. If possible. I would have liked for you not to have seen that. I'm running out of time. But... please believe this. I... wanted to be on your side. You... and... Ion... I wanted to protect you no matter what. That is the truth..."

Abel left and Esther could not bring herself to move.

For the rest of her life, she'd always remember the look on his face at that moment. She'd called him a monster and then told her he was still on her side after all that time. He confessed he was afraid of himself.

It was then that Esther realized that Abel was very, very much alone._**  
**_  
A hundred recites of _Mea Culpas_(7) and _Confetearos_(8) would never had been enough for what she had done to him. That night she set out to make right her wrongs and even though he might not have forgiven her, she would do everything in her power to be his friend, Crusnik or no.  
_**  
**_However, even though two days ago she had confessed her love for him and he had returned her love, he was still reluctant to abandon his habits of bearing everyone's pains and sorrows. She had known he was like that and that's why she loved him, but she had _never_ seen him like this.

His glasses left behind and his silver white was unrestrained and flowing around his swirling robes. But that had only been when she'd seen him last and that hadn't been since before dinner today.

And she had never known him to miss a meal. Something was _very _seriously wrong.

_Why did he do that to himself? To both of them?_

But she had no further time to contemplate her issues with the priest. For she had felt that someone's eyes were currently upon her.

She walked over to her vanity drawer set, took off her necklace, making an appearance of putting away her jewelry and pulled out her Craft of Albian Works Peacekeeper revolver and then discovered who had been watching her from the shadows.

A/N: DUN-da-dun-dun. DUN-da-dun-dun-DUN! (Cue maniacal laughter.) The Sith Lady came back... and left you all a cliffy once again! (Evil laugh) I got behind in my planned update, Sorry about that. But at least you all got some Crusnik action and some blood to slate your thirst. But, hey, I least I finally got an update for the new year... and on... the Ides of March! :O The day that Julius Caesar met his demise. And a day before Da-da-da-DA MegaCon! (WHOO-HOO!) At least I finally finished my Vocaloid MAGNET cosplay that had been also putting me behind schedule too, but hey, at least its done. And speaking of cosplay... I'm now friends with Sheila and Sylar of **Aicosu** on FB! (Squee!) If you want a link to their DA here it is: aicosu. deviantart (remove the spaces, FF is stupid picky about that. :P)

Anyway, now that ramblings are done, I have some questions to ask you as the audience:  
1. Was there anytime that I was OOC with my characters? If so, let me know and give me some advice about better ways of counteracting this.  
2. Is the involement of my OC balanced with the interactions of the other characters, so much so she doesn't take up the whole plotline?  
3. How are you enjoying the story?  
Please reply to these questions in a review, I'll take CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, but NOT flames. Anyway, I hope you all have a blessed day 3.

() Indirect quote from Luke 12: 2-3 the original verse is "...There is nothing covered that shall not be revealed; neither hid, that shall not be known. Therefore whatsoever ye have spoken in the darkness hall heard in the light; and that which ye have spoken in the ear in closets shall be proclaimed upon the housetops."

(1) Quoted from _Odes_, by the poet Horace (ironically enough ;) ) the translation from Latin means "we are dust and shadows."

(2) Cherubim are said to be the second highest angels in the Heavenly hierarchy, Seraphim are said to be the highest. Note: this is a _Trinity Blood Rage Against the Moons: Judgement Day_ reference, to any who have read the novels ;).

(3) Inspired from **Smcandy****'****s **fanfiction "Trinity Blood: War Continuum." I had to add a homage to her work within my fanfiction.

(4) Indirect quote to William Shakespeare's _Hamlet Act I Scene V_.

(5) Referenced to Grecian Myth of King Ixion who had committed the first murder and went so far as to attempt to seduce Hera, the Queen of the gods and wife of Zues, god of Thunder and King of the gods. Zeus, in retribution, then had Ixion chained to a ceaseless spinning wheel in Tartarus, as punishment. Compared to Sisyphus and Tantalus, Ixion's punishment was the worst the gods could grant.

(6) Indirect quote to C.S. Lewis' _The Chronicles of Narnia_ (That book series is my #1 Christian fiction and made many a report off of those books ;). )

(7) The literal translation from this Latin phrase is "my fault." It's also a phrase that is used in the prayer of the same name as a confession of one's sins and how one confesses their guilt to their sin. (If you recall in the Disney edition of Hunchback of Notre Dame, in the song "Hellfire," Judge Claude Frollo's conscious took on the form of condemning judges and chanted "Mea Culpa" during the bridge... That song is SCARY! :O)

(8) The literal translation of this Latin phrase, obviously means, "confession." Like with "Mea Culpa" it is a prayer of confession for one's sins.

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress


	14. XIII: Secret Kept and Silence Sealed

A/N: Oy vey, once again I've outdone myself this time. I listened to Within Temptation's "All I Need" for over three hours and this chapter came into fruition. YAY! My cosplay costume was a success and Naomi and I have now set up our joint YouTube channel for our Vocaloid cosplay: **CosmeMiKa**. (Here's a link, remove the spaces: ). I got to see Star Trek: Into Darkness with **Grandmama Evie**, **Anilee** and **Jedi Skysinger **and with **Darth Tyronnius Shoelaces **again for Father's Day. Here's a hint for those who haven't seen the movie yet: "KHAAAAAAN!" You'll understand once you see it. ^^ Anyway, I got a new line of clothes for my wardrobe which Anilee got me as a gift from Macy's in New York, and I must say they are FANTASTIC. A Wonderful Warning people: there's going to be some serious FLUFF in the air! Anyway here it is ya'll, the second to last chapter of TBR I!

**Chapter XIII: Secret Kept and Silence Sealed  
**_The human heart has hidden treasures,  
__In secret kept and silence sealed;  
__The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
__Whose charms were broken if revealed  
__- _Charlotte Brontë, _"Evening Solace"_

How long would this sorrowful soul be content to watch his love from the darkness in which he felt the need to lurk? When would he realize that their feelings were mutual and when would the penance for his sins be enough to cease denying himself his one chance for happiness and enter into her company?

Abel Nightroad had been staring at her since he'd made his resolve in the garden a few hours ago. From that time when he first entered the frozen waste that symbolically reflected the state of his soul to the time that he spent on the balcony when he had first seen her when he had first came back to this country as the sun had begun to set, he had wanted to speak with her privately, but he could not find the words to do so. As a result of his hesitation, he had been watching her from the moment she entered into her room, apparently just after he had missed dinner.

He had seen her trembling, and could only guess the result being her fear of the apparent "ghost" of the Puppet Master. He had wanted to envelop her into his arms and comfort her and whisper into her ear promises that fiend would never hurt her as long as he was there. But he could not bring himself to enter into her presence in the ruined state he was in.

However, what had hurt him more was seeing her lapis lazuli eyes loose cloud over with worry, regret and sorrow, was seeing what Abel could almost swear had been a slight trace of tears upon her eyelashes being held back by her sheer will. He had seen that look upon her face in those rare blue moon moments when he had secretly observed her during her time in the AX as well. To see her in that state now, he had wanted to kiss those tears away and sweep her up into embrace and whisper against her lips that she need not worry or regret any more now that he had returned to her world. Unfortunately for him, his voice of reason had held him at bay, proverbially yelling at him that to do so would be unwise and that she would not want to see him since he was responsible for the death of one of her household.

Lost as he was in his mental musings, he didn't associate her digging into the drawer of her nightstand with a potential threat until that action called back his attention back to reality when he realized that beyond the glass, the barrel of a high-class revolver was aimed right at him.

"Come out and show me your hands, whoever you are!" she demanded as she reached for the communications device that would summon the palace guards.

"No, wait, Miss Esther! Don't shoot!" he pleaded as he emerged from the balcony through the double doors, only to trip over the heavy velvet curtains alongside and landed comically on his back, spread-eagled on the carpeted floors.

"ABEL? WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Eheheheh," Abel said with a sheepish grin from his position on the floor. "Sorry for dropping in like this."

Esther sighed exasperatedly and put her gun away. She recalled this sort of behavior of his from their time in the AX when he used to do something stupid just to catch her attention. However, she also knew that this time he was attempting to hide himself from her... again. She needed to put a stop to that. _Now.  
_  
After a few tiring minutes, the former nun finally managed to untangle Father Nightroad from the curtains and dust him off... and then pulled all the stength she could muster into punching him right in the arm.

"OW! I know you have a mean right hook, but do you have to practice it on me?" Abel whined while rubbing his left arm.

"Abel Nightroad," the Albian Queen began, the use of his full name catching his attention. "When will you stop hiding yourself from me? I've already told you once, what I hate more than anything is seeing you ashamed and afraid. You have no need to do that, not while you're here."

"Esther..." he began. "If you had any ideas of who I had been, or more specifically _what_ I had been, you would understand my disposition."

"Then _help me _understand. You promised me to stand by my side and you promised not to leave me again. So... don't leave me in the dark about yourself... not anymore. We're together now and you know everything about me... but I still don't know anything about you. So... please Abel, give me a chance to understand you and be beside you like you are now beside me."

Abel's eyes widened from behind his spectacles. In that moment, he felt himself divided between telling her all the evils he had done and his regrets, thus risking her finally turning away from him. Or... keeping all the darkness of his soul confined within himself and risk her wrath over "hiding himself" from her. However, he recalled the numerous failures he had endured in that last option. When he tried to keep the knowledge of the Crusnik from her, she was not only nearly killed before his eyes, she was so frightened from the sight that she had fainted, and... That time when he had left her for two long agonizing years because he couldn't bring himself to face her after what he had been forced to become. It was then he decided that the last option was only going to further drive them apart. If he was going to protect her from _him_ and be beside her like he had promised, the second option was no longer a choice.

Abel then smiled wistfully and spoke so softly Esther had a hard time catching his words.

"I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul…. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent forever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight.(1)"

"What?"

"It's a quote from a Pre-Armageddon classic. I just finally understand the meaning behind those words."

"I don't-" Abel placed his ripped-fingered gloved hand over her lips, those lovely rose-shaded petals.

"I will no longer hide my secrets from you, Esther. I fell like, now, more than ever, is the time for me to tell you the truth, like I had promised you. All you have to do is ask and I shall tell you everything.(2)"

Esther couldn't bring herself to believe what he was saying. He was actually laying bare his soul for her; something that he had never done for her back in her AX days. She had expected him to attempt to conceal himself from her. This had given her heart something far more than she could ever hope for. He was entrusting his heart and his past to her now...

It didn't feel fair for him just to expose himself like that. She also had to give him something equal in exchange for this. Esther wrapped her hand around his wrist and moved his hand to caress her cheek, as a reassurance for what she wanted to do for him.

"Very well, since you agreed not to keep secrets from me, it's only fair that I don't keep secrets from you."

* * *

Ion Fortuna, in normal circumstances when burdened with glorious purpose, would have gone about his intentions with speed and efficiency. However, in order to be efficient in this case, he had to undertake said purpose slowly and gather his thoughts. As such, instead of dashing through the palace to find the priest and the Queen, he had decided to walk at a Terran's pace through the gilded walls of Buckingham and think through his plan of offering a genuine apology.

In the midst of his mental musings, he nearly collided with the Earl of Manchester. Fortunately, their superior abilities had prevented each other from running into one another, which in turn saved Lord Walsh from losing the documents he held in his clutch and losing his place and also kept the Count of Memphis from losing his sense of decorum.

"My many apologies to you, Lord Walsh," Ion spoke in fluent Albionese, whilst giving a slight salute to the noble.

"Likewise, _Domnul_ Ion," Virgil returned in the Imperial language, giving the Imperial envoy a bow.

"If you don't mind me asking, my lord, are you seeking Es-, I mean, Her Majesty the Queen?"

"Yes, there are issues that must be settled with the Council. Lady Caterina has also made contact with us concerning the intel we have gathered on the Order and Her Imperial Majesty the Empress Augusta is insistent that she meet with both Her Majesty and Father Nightroad."

"Her Imperial Majesty? Lady Caterina? Are they well?"

"From the looks of things, that appears to be the case. However, other concerns besides the Order have arisen as well. I'm afraid with the Inquisition landing in Normandy; our insecure alliance with the Francian Republic will be further degraded. President de Guise has been insistent that the blame fall upon Albian and Vatican shoulders, since it was the failed assassination of Her Majesty that brought the Inquisition down upon their necks and Franc's relationship with the Vatican has already been strained enough. This could be the last straw for them as a nation."

"Isn't that blame misplaced?" Ion queried. "We all know who attempted to put an end to Es-, I mean, Her Majesty, shouldn't the blame fall on the Rosenkreuz?"

"_We_ know who was behind the scenes; however, there are those within both Franc and the Vatican and countless other nations that insist that the Order doesn't exist and the Order is content to let them continue that false belief. Unfortunately, President de Guise has endured far more grief from the Church, so much so that she blames them for every atrocity that occurs within her borders. Naturally, the Church is well aware of such tensions; however, they do not give one whit about whose feathers they ruffle. I fear that as long as _certain_ individuals continue to influence His Holiness, war will be inevitable."

The Methuselah considered the President's emotional reasoning for turning to an enemy to end the nations' sufferings. It was no different than what Radu had done and his reasoning for why he had chosen that path. However, Ion knew what that path led down to: death and betrayal at their hands. However, Virgil was also right about that _certain_ individual, that militaristic bastard Cardinal di Medici. For as long as he existed, the political tension between the Vatican, the countries under their Alliance and especially the Empire would no doubt further increase.

It was after at least two minutes of Ion pondering the political situation of Albion along with the other nations of the Outer World and his own previous reflections comparing the President and his late Tovaras that Virgil had finally asked Ion's intentions.

"I wish to speak with Her Majesty and Father Nightroad and in contrition for my actions that led to Dame Edith's death."

"Very well then. I shall have you accompany me. It appears you are in the need of moral support, something I am willing to give."

"Thank you, Lord Walsh."

Together the Methuselah noblemen headed for the Albian Queen's chambers.

* * *

"I might as well begin, since I started this," Abel suggested, as he ran his fingers though her scarlet strands of hair and took pleasure in Esther rubbing her cheek against his palm.

"Very well."

Abel took a deep breath and began emptying himself of the darkness that had been haunting him since he first arrived to Albion, "I cannot deny the... _guilt_ that I feel towards our situation. Even though we've now been reunited after two years, I cannot deny that my return has brought more danger to you than before."

"Father..."

"However... I... My heart cannot deny the knowledge that I am the only one who can protect you from this danger as well. If I had known _he_ was going to come after you... if I had known that his first intention was to target you... I would have..." He took a quick, harsh intake of breath and temporarily clenched his jaw before resuming, "If anything these two years' worth of agony have taught me, it is that I cannot protect you from _him_ by staying away from you. And... I don't think I _can_ stay away from you... not anymore."

Esther felt a sudden surge of joy once more, so much so that her heart was about to burst. However, she had to keep her swelling emotions held under the firmest control, knowing that now was not the time for such frivolity. "Abel..."

"Unfortunately... in exchange for protecting you... _his_ wrath has befallen innocents. Lewis Stone... Horace Ethridge... Edith and almost a quarter of your guards..."

Esther knew what was coming next. If she had let him continue, no doubt he'd try to blame himself for their deaths... deaths that were on her hands. It was because they made the choice to get themselves involved for her sake... well, not all of them... but they were killed because of their association with her. And she didn't want her love to share the guilt that rightfully belonged on her shoulders.

"Abel... if anything _I'm_ the one responsible for their deaths. I already have a list of individuals that have died for me and not just Lewis and Horace... if anyone's then Gyula's blood makes the most prominent stain upon my hands. Even though we both considered each other enemies... he still protected me and... Died because of it."

"Esther... it wasn't..."

"Please, let me continue, I have oftentimes wondered whether the battle could have ended differently for the both of us. However, even though this weight still burdens my soul... I know now that this weight rightfully belongs on the one that wants to see us destroy each other... The one that orchestrated the attempts to end my life... Contra Mundi."

Esther noticed that Abel had stiffened slightly at the repugnant title, but decided to continue as a means to place the blame on who was really responsible for all those deaths, both in the past and in the present.

"I know he is your brother, but he must be put to an end before more meet their deaths at my expense."

"Esther... my brother died long before you were ever born. Back then, I had felt... he was the only one who truly understood me and he was the only companion I had that I knew shared my pain and sorrows. But that man who was my brother died when he…" He had to keep the rage under control that began to swell within him as he saw_ him _once more in his mind's eye, as _he_ showed him the decapitated head of his lost love. But whether by some divine intervention or the fact he didn't want to let Esther see him break, he kept himself together. However, he had turned his visage away from her. Even this small tidbit of his past could have turned someone from him and he didn't want it to be her. "When he had... done the unforgivable... It was then I learned that my brother was no more and in his place was the Crusnik."

He then turned his gaze to his love and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Esther... I still remember your face, as you looked upon me when I was revived." Her eyes widened. "I still remember my last battle with _him_ but... afterwards I can't remember anything. I don't know the number of lives I had ended before I finally regained consciousness, but I do remember that when I had awakened from that state I felt... like... I had drunk the blood of countless Methuselah." He heard Esther's sharp intake of breath before continuing, his face cast down in shame. "Even though there was no evidence I had done such an act... it only furthers my belief that one day... I will become just like _him_. I fear one day _they_ will envelop my mind and I will no longer be the man you love, but a cold, heartless... monster..."

Esther took her time to take in his words. She had wanted to address his previous confession, that he had seen her before that last battle, which wedged two years between them. She believed that she was the reason he had taken on that vile form and that action had caused Abel distance himself for the shame of what he had become. However, despite her need to confess this grievous sin, she needed to address his needs first. And right now he needed to be free from the fear of what he could become and be grounded in who he really was, the man she loved.

"Abel... you are not a monster. You will never become like that. I've seen how different the two of you are and from what little I've seen of... _him_... I can assure you that you two are _nothing_ alike. I saw that distant look in his eyes, but in your eyes... I see that you are still you."

"Esther... You don't know what I have done. On the night I had returned to Albion... I battled the Tudor Knights' warlock, Seeley Creedy. I was forced to use... _them_ and when I fought him... the Crusnik... _they_... Even though I was only in use of the Crusnik at 40% capacity... I was possessed by the mentality of Crusnik on that night... when you first saw me... in Carthage."

That memory of fire, lightning, ruin and a black-winged devilish figure, standing before it all intoxicated by the destruction, was burned into the confines of her mind, as if the moment had just come to pass before her eyes. When the dark figure looked upon her, all she could do was stare in terror and cry out the first word that had come upon her lips... a word that had her recite repentance after repentance after that moment of flame and shadow. She tried to keep the aftershock of seeing that horrid sight once more behind a mask of ease, but she knew he could see the cracks within it.

She could then feel his grip tighten upon her shoulder, as a means not to hurt her but to anchor his sanity, so he could make his dark request. "Esther... there is something I want you to do for me, in the event that _they_ should attempt to take control of me. You have my full permission to take that gun..." he gestured over to where the weapon lay, "...And shoot me. And if that isn't enough, if I... haven't returned to my senses... you have to kill me."

Esther's eyes widened at his bequest. How could he ask her to do such a thing to him? In her mind, such a request was the blackest of blasphemies. Her mind began to reel at the thought and began to wonder how she could bring herself to kill the man she loved. It was then a mental image came to her mind's eye, him with his burning lurid eyes begging her to end his life as his shackles of control began to shatter under his grip and her gun aimed for his heart. It was then she realized that imagining him dying at her hand had been even worse than that day when the Contra Mundi had taken his life... while she watched... helplessly.

She felt as those thoughts began to pool in her head, leaving her as a frozen state of being. Then the thought came that _this_ was to be the punishment for her sins. In exchange for aiding the Contra Mundi to end the life of the one she loved... then she had to be the one to end his life in the event the Crusnik should take him.

After resigning herself to this fate... she then gave her answer; "Only in the event that you are no longer you." Tears were stinging her eyes as she agreed, but she refused to let them fall. "I guess, it is only fitting... that I should."

Abel snapped himself from his selfish reverie at her words, "What do you mean by that?"

"I... wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. I guess to make up for that sin... I will do as you ask."

"Why would you think that? That's not what I meant at all," he replied, shocked by her words.

"You mentioned Carthage earlier... and... on that night... I had previously denied you and then I had called you a..." She choked one the last word and then continued, her eyes cast down in regret and shame. "If I was your true companion... I would never have done those things to you."

"Esther..." His surprisingly calm voice, filled with sympathy, had shocked her and, when he moved his hand from her shoulder and slightly brushed her cheek, she had to look upon him. She stared in amazement, not at the wistful expression his lips had formed, but his winter-lake eyes, which were filled with compassion for her. "You have no need to bear this guilt. What you had done for me afterwards... in the Tomb of the Saint had made up for all of that and more. Don't you remember later that night...? " He had freed his previously occupied hand and took her own hand into his and placed it on his heart.

It was then a new memory- a memory that she had kept locked within her heart because it was too painful to return to her consciousness when he was gone- had returned. The reminiscence had once more filled her with joy. It was a memory she had kept to herself when she was still in the AX and she would often trace her right palm on restless nights to help her relive the moment during that time.

_She had saved him from an Auto-Jaeger that had been feasting on his flesh and blood and saved him before death could lay claim to him. She had asked him if he was alright before her relieved expression hardened into a glare and commanded him to stand up._

_She noticed the blood seeping from his neck and had inquired if he was bitten and began to clean the blood away. She had inquired whether or not he had completed the mission, but he had appeared to have been lost in thought. In that moment, she noticed that his eyes were unobstructed by those silly glasses and that he had... almost looked beautiful, even with his hair tied back... before Esther had had enough and literally snapped at him to come back to reality._

_He had apologized frantically for the fact that he didn't fully complete his mission as she retorted that he didn't need to apologize all the time. But then his eyes clouded over in shame and self-disgust at what he was... it was then Esther remembered exactly why she had followed him there in the first place._

_She had averted his eyes from his glum expression and said, "Oh, that. Yeah. There's something I wanted to tell you... I... Father... I... I really have to tell you, Father..."_

_"Eh? What?" He had asked, and she silently noted that he was gaping at her, despite the situation they were both in._

_"To tell you the truth I... I think that pathetic 'sorry' people like you aren't scary in the LEAST!" she had sharply confessed._

_She turned to face him and he had looked bewildered like he wasn't expecting her words._

_She then said in a tone like she was declaring war, "That's right!" she then poked him in the chest as she spoke, "I am... Totally! Not at all! Not even a little bit! Afraid of you!"_

_She then saw he was appraising her and expression was uncertain... like he couldn't bring himself to decide whether to laugh or cry. Then his lips turned upwards in a wistful smile... "Um... Miss Esther..."_

_"Yes?" she asked, somewhat taking in by his beautiful expression._

_He then bowed his head, "Thank you. Truly," he had almost murmured._

_It was then she had called themselves back into the dangerous world they were currently unaware of and ordered themselves to finish their mission. The Auto-Jaegers had re-mobilized and were swarming in on them. He then commanded her place her hand over a light and to complete a halt code to stop a technological computerized sandstorm from destroying the city while he dealt with the zombie vampires. She then reassured themselves they were going to make it, as she heard and felt the electricity in the air, knowing what he was becoming... Hope and despair struggling before their very eyes, as he declared, "I will not allow you to interrupt her... your opponent...__**is me.**"_

_She then heard him as he fought against them while she had intently placed in the deactivation code and heard him with his metallic, distorted voice. "_

_**Though dead... you are not allowed to rest. For this I pity you. However... I cannot spare you.**" She then heard the sound of a scythe tearing countless numbers of flesh and blood seeping from numerous opponents. Letting out a war cry before she heard him quietly pray: "**Deus considere me cabra in nomine... Dono mihi permisum satisfacti... This eternally cursed power! This disgusting existence! May this wretched body help me protect that which is important to me now! This only power that makes atonement for my sins possible! Pulveribus pulverem pulveribus fieri... cineribus cineram fieri... terrae terram fieri... AMEN! (3)**"_

_She then brought to his attention that she had completed the code and that they only had a minute before the storm hit the city. With his scythe in his hands, the priest then ran over to the console. He looked over her shoulder and saw the code was nearly completed; only he needed to finish the remainder of the Ibilis' deactivation._

_In was in that moment, when he had nearly completed the cipher, the Terran girl took in the Crusnik's dark, yet striking form._

_"__**Oh.**" Esther noticed he was trembling slightly. Almost like she was reading his mind, knowing he was thinking himself a monster before her, she then realized he was also a clumsy, awkward, yet wonderful priest. With great courage and great resolve, she then placed her soft hand over his taloned, bloody one, which had frozen as it hovered over the "enter" key._

_"Father... I told you, didn't I? I'm not afraid of you... at all."_

_Esther then pressed Abel's hand down. Together they pressed the key. An Angel's face smiling down at her._

"If any time was appropriate to call me a monster after I dispatched those Auto-Jaegers, it was then. But you didn't and you accepted me while I was in that vile form. You were there for me, by my side. I had promised you that I would do the same for you, Esther. Never before had I felt the touch of love as I did, in that moment after the darkest hour of my life. At the time, I didn't know what was stirring in my heart when you pressed your hand against mine. But I know now what that feeling was. I feel it every time I see you, whenever I am with you, every time you smile at me..."

Esther stared in shock at the jubilant turn the conversation had taken. She could feel a fountain of happiness surge through her at this revelation. He had felt what she had felt after that night and that only furthered her belief that he was her Angel just as she was his. Wanting to share her exaultious rapture that she felt her heart, she smiled and then leaned closer to him to the point their lips were almost touching. She took note that she could feel his heart beating frantically against her hand almost in time with her own.

"I felt that way too and I still feel that way, my Angel..."

Their mouths melded together, gently, softly, a feather light touch. It was only lips on lips, it wasn't as fevered and passionate as their previous ones, but Esther could taste within that kiss that Abel _needed _her. To her, this kiss was so much more than their first heated and passionate kisses and she answered back his need for her as her own need for him. Their kiss continued slow and deliberately building towards...

"Your Majesty?" Came the voice of Lord Walsh from the other side of the large wooden door.

The pair froze momentarily and then they drew their faces apart from one another. Still staring into each other's eyes, the blue of day and the blue of night, they were mere inches from each other with their breaths still mingling when the Earl of Manchester rapped again.

"Are you alright, Majesty?"

And with that, they both burst out with peals of laughter.

* * *

The Imperial nobleman still felt a sense a dread hang over him that increased as he neared the doors of Esther's private chamber. Even with Virgil's assurances that nothing unpleasant would occur when he met with Father Nightroad, Ion still had his doubts. Virgil hadn't committed any sins towards the priest nor had he ended the life of one of Esther's staff. However, despite this dark foreboding, he still was going to face the priest and not cower in the darkness like some common vampire.

And when the Count of Memphis and the Earl of Manchester had reached their destination, the youth could pick out a small sound with his sensitive ears. Ion wasn't sure what it was, but it sounded breathy to him. He looked at the elder noble with a puzzled stare, but Virgil had let loose an exasperated sigh, like he knew what was going on, but wasn't about to tell the lad what was _really_ going on.

After a few seconds of hearing the strange noise, Ion then realized what the sound was... and realized that along with everything else that could be held against him, he was now going to die should he dare cross the threshold beyond his current stance. He was about to dash off when Virgil took the option from him and knocked.

It was too late for him; he was going to seriously suffer retribution. Every nerve ending felt like it was locked, planting him there, braced for the impact. However, that feeling soon became overcome by new emotions. It was then his sensitive ears picked up the sound of pealing laughter; shock and confusion reigned within him.

"It's alright," came the muffled voice from the other side of the door. "I'll take care of it."

The Count of Memphis was uncertain whether to feel more apprehensive more that he was going to be meeting Esther face to face after what he had just heard. In the few seconds he had to decide how he felt about the matter before the door swung open, the young nobleman went with relief that he was not confronting Abel about what he'd just heard. He couldn't wrap his head around... well, more accurately, he didn't _want_ to.

Amber eyes met lapis-lazuli as Esther opened the door. Now every beat of his heart, he was certain, was going to be numbered as Esther invited the noblemen into her quarters. He saw Father Nightroad standing by the glass doors, but refused to meet his eyes. He wasn't ready to look at him just yet. Virgil then formally gave the proper apology for having interrupted her personal time, to which Esther easily forgave. But he then directed her attention to the Count, for he had something that he had to say.

Ion took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling himself become filled with dread. He feared that nothing he was going to say would calm the priest's anger towards him. However, he also had to tell the Queen of his involvement in the death of one of her staff and surely she wouldn't forgive him. Since he was now under the proverbial spotlight, he had to speak and he now understood what it meant to be damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

He fell to his knees and bowed his head. He noted the irony of the fact he was bowing to a Terran and the only person he had bowed before was the Empress Augusta herself. But that was before he had cast away his prejudices towards Terrans and now, if he was to live any longer, he had to now cast away his pride.

"Your Majesty, Queen Esther, I have borne a deep regret that I must speak with you about. As you know, Edith has lost her life to the Rosenkreuz; however, I must speak of the fact that I helped her meet her demise at their hands. If I had not been a reckless fool, one who was blinded by hubris and vengeance, she would probably still be alive. I am no different than the common vampires that I claim are my enemies, for her blood now blemishes my hands, and I know now that nothing is going to cleanse this stain upon them, not even the perfumes of Arabia.(4). I am not asking you to forgive me, but I still wish to be of service to you and to Albion, even if you wish to never speak to me again."

He then addressed the silver haired man while keeping his gaze upon the carpeted floors, "Father Nightroad, I know I was an idiot to try to pursue the maid. If I had not distracted you from your battle, this would not have happened. I know any violence that might have come my way was solely my own fault and I beg your forgiveness in this matter solely that I may continue in Her Majesty's Service, if she'll have me that is, for I neither deserve your mercy or your forgiveness."

"Ion," the preist said quietly. "Have we not traveled these lands together? Was I not your companion for two years? What kind of monster do you think I am?"

The look that the young Count finally gave him told Abel exactly what kind of monster Ion thought he was. "I only growled at you to keep you away from the danger that the Crusnik poses. It had nothing to do with you!"

Ion wasn't sure what he was hearing, but it wasn't what he was expecting at all. "But how...?!" the Methuselah gasped "I wounded you! I caused someone to die! How can you-?!"

"Ion!" Abel calmly stated. "Edith's blood doesn't stain your hands, but the hands of the one who ended her life. I don't blame you for what happened to her, but the Crusnik in that moment were demanding me to..." he shuddered at the memory and then resumed in his heated but compassionate tone, "I needed to get you out of there before I lost control. I will admit I was somewhat angered by your impetousness, but what I needed you to do was ensure that you weren't going to die because of them."

Ion's couldn't believe it. All this time that he had spent worrying over how his companion was going to react when he asked for fogiveness was all for naught. For that moment in time, all he could do was stare at the silver-haired man and slowly ask, "Then... you... aren't... angry with me?"

Abel shook his head and replied, "No, Ion, if I had to forgive you for anything, it'd be your impulsiveness, which I can redily absolve you of that fault."

Ion thanked whatever God that ruled this world that Abel wasn't one to hold a grudge, and that even though he should have been heavily punished for his transgressions, he was exonerated of them. However... Esther still had yet to state his fate in both his relationship with her and his service to her.

"I thank you for your forgiveness, Father." He then turned his attention to the redhead, "Do you forgive me, my Lady?" and turned his gaze from her.

Esther then walked over to him and placed and hand on his cheek and turned his eyes to hers. "Ion, if there is anyone to blame for Edith's death, it is not you, but the one that took her life. There's no need to forgive you for an act that you haven't comitted." She smiled.

Ion felt tears come to his eyes but refused to let them fall. He felt a great burden had been lifted off his shoulders, so much so he hadn't felt the true weight of it until it had been lifted from him. (5) He smiled at his friend... no, she was more to him than that and it was time to let her know of what she was now to him.

"_Iti multumesc frumos, Tovaras_." Ion spoke in the Imperial language.

Esther returned in kind, "_Cu placere_."

Abel looked at his love and her companion with a tender look in his eyes. However, his face masked an internal war within his soul between reason and an emotion he had never felt in over nine hundred years... jealousy. He had felt it's poisonous sting then, whenever he had seen his lost love with his lost brother. However, during that dark time, she always seemed to know what was going through his head and let him know that she chose him, not his elder sibling. He fought against the negative emotion stating that Ion was his companion and a companion for Esther, too. However, jealousy hissed back stating that Esther was _his_, and that he had to let Ion know in uncertain terms that Esther belonged to him. He had to keep this war within himself, if not... he was sure Esther was going to kill him...

"Father, are you alright?" The Earl of Manchester stated from his position near the doorway snapping him out of his reverie and saving him from his internal conflict.

Father Nightroad then came back into reality and noticed that Esther's hand was no longer on Ion's cheek- to Abel's delight- but both hers and the Methuselah lad's eyes were upon him. Ion looked somewhat confused while Esther was looking at him oddly, almost like she was trying to figrue out what he was thinking. Before she could put her cleverness to work, he put on his best goofball smile and pushed his glasses over the bridge of his nose, "Eh? Of course I'm okay."

"If that is so, then I wish to convey to Her Majesty that the Council is currently in session and that they are waiting for her, especially Cardinal Caterina Sforza and the Empress of the New Human Empire," the Lord President of the Council advised.

Ion then paled somewhat at the news, "Th-the Empress...?" he stammered.

Esther then asked, "What's wrong? I thought you and Seth were on good terms."

Ion then hung his head and quickly answered, "Her Majesty the Empress hasn't let me live it down calling her 'girl,' or 'child' after what happened three years ago. Her Majesty is as merciless as my Lady Grandmother when it comes to teasing... I fear of what she's going to do when she sees my face again."

Abel chuckled and stated, "Well, _I'm_ her older brother. I'll tell her to lay off that."

"_Iti multumesc frumos_, Father," Ion immediately thanked him in the Imperial language.

Virgil cleared his throat after Esther finished giggling and said, "Now that the frivolity is over, it is vital that the Council meets with Queen."

Esther then turned from Ion and nodded her head. She knew that tone Virgil was using. There was a great debriefing to be had and she was certain the Council was anxious for that the meeting occur. However, she needed not only Ion by her side, but also Abel.

"Very well, I shall meet with the Council. If you do not mind, I would wish for both the Earl of Memphis and Father Nightroad to attend. And if it well with you, Lord Walsh, I wish for them to become representatives for both the Empire and the Vatican," Esther requested.

Virgil bowed and stated, "It would be an honor, Your Majesty."

* * *

"Ion, you and Lord Walsh go ahead. I'll attend you momentarily."

"Of course, Your Majesty," the Earl of Manchester nodded before departing with the Count of Memphis in tow. The count gave Esther one last smile before disappearing behind the mahogany doors.

Esther finally turned her attention back to Abel and before she could speak he then questioned, "You want me... as a representative of the Vatican?"

She smiled and then answered, "Yes, I need both you and Ion now more than ever. If I had the opinions of both a priest and a Methuselah of the Imperial Court in Council, we might be able to understand where the Order should strike next. The Council consists of many lords and ladies who have encounters with the Order, save for Lord Stone and Prime Minister Stuart. With the two of you, who had been hunting the Order for over two years, we might have an edge over them, now."

The priest let out a light exhalation of breath, "I thank you for the honor, Esther. But... I'm sure that one such as I should hold a position of power, especially in your Court, not after what I had done."

"Abel," Esther whispered and she walked over to him and caressed his cheek, "You are more worthy than anyone to serve me, not only as my protector, but also as my most trusted aide. And you are not just those things to me, you are the one I gave my heart to, and one thing I have learned over these two years, is that being without you, was worse than nearly being killed by the Order. That is why, now that you're back, I need you now more than ever."

Abel shuddered at her confession. He had hurt her with his absence, worse than whatever schemes his brother had in mind for her. A part of him wanted to run away before his impurities had tainted her as they had tainted him and to prevent him from hurting her again. However, his vow not to leave her again had kept him from making that poor choice. Besides, even if he tried he couldn't bring himself to do so anyway. In his heart, that vow became just as important as the one he had made to Lilith, of never ending a life or allowing anyone to die. If he had left her, it would not only kill him, it would kill Esther, too.

However, being given a position of power re-awakened an old fear that was buried in his soul. He had abused his power during the darkest days of his life, as a Lieutenant-Colonel, and the price for his corruption were the countless lives that he had ended. No one such as him deserved that status. However, like it or not, he had sworn service to Esther. In that moment he had promised he would never desert her like he did on that night two years ago and, if this was how she wished him to serve her, so be it.

"Very well, I accept your offer. I hope I shall serve you well as a member of your Council." Father Nightroad then bowed before the Queen on one knee hand kissed her hand.

Esther then lifted his face, and bid him to rise and caressed his cheek, "There's so much I want to tell you, but... I fear we may not have the time yet."

Abel smiled and then took her hand into his and kissed her palm, "After the Council has ended, we will continue our discussion."

"That discussion, even though necessary, must be delayed. For a new threat now befalls Peter's descendant and may draw the world into the grasp of the Angel of Death."

The queen and the priest both took as sharp intake of breath at the voice. They knew this voice. They had heard it before, for the memory of this voice was so fresh they felt like they had only heart it yesterday when it only ten days ago. Abel and Esther turned their faces to the glass panes, to find them, not only opened but a figure outlined in the second moon's lurid light stood before them.

The black cloak had almost blended with the darkness around her and her pure white dress in the dark light resembled that of a pale red rose.

The Sybil had returned.

Next Chapter: Lady Guilty  
Avert not thine eyes

* * *

A/N: ANOTHER CLIFFIE! MWA-HA-HA-HA! It must a sign... the Sith Lady is back! (Giggles evilly.) I FINALLY got this chapter done! This was a chapter to tie up _**some**_ of the loose ends in the previous chapters, not _**all **_of then though, otherwise I wouldn't have some angst and lovey-dovey moments in my future chapters. And I must say all that time listening to Within Temptation has paid off. Especially after the fact I had to lay down brick pavers and do some house cleaning for him for extra cash. ^^ Unfortunately, **Darth Tyronnius Shoelaces **decided to ruin our hard work by placing oil-filled garbage cans on our work that leaked over the brick, I then had to go down and clean his mess! I wanted to say to him was: "Ain't nobody got time for that!" but I did it anyway... nearly worked my arm off trying to get that stain up. Anyway now that the ranting is out of the way, my friends I want to let you know, the action and shipping that I had metioned in my summary will come to pass in my next update, please be patient with me, I will get to that when I get the time I need to finish my next chapter. BTW I met two super-nice Russians that **Jedi Skysinger** is giving English lessons in exchange for workout lessons and information on Russia for her _Burn Notice _fanfictions. And OMG by birthday is coming up, and I can't wait for what's in store! WHEEEE! (This chapter is like a B-day gift to me. I'm so happy!) ^^ Oh, one fast fact about my birthday, it's also Hatsune Miku's (of VOCALOID2) birthday too, so I have to give a shout out to both her and my #1 Vocaloid MMD artitist **Vocalkokoro**. He is so nice, be sure to check out his artwork on DA, it would really make his day. Here's a link: (Remove the spaces)

Anyway, now that I'm done yammering about my life in reality and my B-day, here's some questions for my reviewers:

1. Was there any time that I was OOC with the Canon characters? (Like with Ion and Abel's talk in this chapter) If so, let me know and give me some advice about better ways of counteracting this. (No flames please, I'm begging you.)  
2. Is the involvement of my OC balanced with the interactions of the other characters, (like her reappearance in the last paragraph of this chapter) so much so she doesn't take up the whole plotline?  
3. How are you enjoying the story?

Please reply to these questions in a review, pretty please with milk tea and thirteen sugars on top. ;) I know I used some of the _Twilight_ BOOKS as an aid, but I MOSTLY used **Darth Stitch's **works to help me stay in character. I WAS a _Twilight_ fan until the movies came out, and since Abel and Edward are so much alike that it's pathetic... I had to use it as a reference. But note: Abel, _unlike_ Edward is NOT a stalker, NOR is he obsessed like that fecking idiot AND Abel is a REAL vampire that feeds ON vampires, NOT a sparkling git that claims he's a vampire. Plus Abel had had a REAL reason for leaving Esther while Edward DID NOT have a reason for leaving Bella. And unlike Bella, Esther CAN kick $$, and take names -read the novels- she was a Partisan warrior AND an AX agent who held her own against vampires countless times, UNLIKE Bella. So now that _Twilight_ bashing is out of the way... here's where I got my quotes.

(1) - Quoted from _A Tale of Two Cities_ by the famous nineteenth century writer Charles Dickens.

(2) - Indirect reference to Psalms 2 "Ask and ye shall receive."

(3) - A variation on the prayer for the deceased, ending in the familiar Latin term for "Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust."

(4) - Indirect Quote to _Macbeth __Act V, Scene I _by William Shakespeare, the original quote is "Here's the smell of blood still./ All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand."

(5) - Indirect Reference to _The Scarlet Letter_ by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Mysteriously Yours,

ObsidianEmpress.


	15. Epilogue

A/N: I'm quite surprised I'm still sane after writing this. Not only was I using every experience I had from playing chess with **Darth Tyronnius Shoelaces **but I also had to go into the mind of a certain genocidal maniac. But there are consolation prizes: my fans won't have to yell at me because this chapter features the aspects I talked about in my story summary AND this is the last chapter of Book I. (YAY!) Kudos points go to the one can spot where I got the title of this chapter from. (Hint: It's the chapter title from another vampire Manga.) And as a bonus there's also going to references from a certain black Manga that has ties with chess and, of course, _Code Geass_. This chapter pays host to the Enemy of the World himself. Aaaaannnnd here it is: the final chapter of the first book of TBR! BTW Many thanks to **Christa McGinn **and and fellow Abel/Esther writer** Elly3981 **for reading over this chapter ;) I hope you all enjoy this. ~_^ And this chapter is for you **Candy-sama**.

**Epilogue: Storm on the Chessboard**  
_But helpless pieces of the game he plays  
__Upon his chequer-bord of Nights and Days  
__Hither and thither moves, and checks and slays  
_- "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam," _Translated by Edward Fitz Gerald 1859_

Chess. It was such an amusing game. In many ways Chess was the absolute symbol of the endless struggle between pride and life. Not only does it symbolize such a struggle, it also symbolizes my own struggle against the world. To have my opponents fall into the palm of my hands, it is the perfect game for one such as I.

I, who is the Enemy of the World.

I am not a mere chess piece on the board that is the battlefield against my opponent and my opposition. No, I am not the king, I am the one playing the game with humanity, both Terran and Methuselah, are at my disposal against my opposition and my opponent, until I emerge as the victor.

There are differences between chess and the world. In the "game" of chess, the player must follow the rules in order to succeed; however, in life as I often does, the player must _break_ the rules in order to win. It is also true the pawns in the player's own game could hold the possibility of betrayal and, before betrayal can get out of hand, the player must take down his own pawns in order to survive.

In order for me to both survive and to succeed, I must bring about the end of the one who opposes me.

My opposition, my own brother, my twin, Abel. How I wished that he was on my side once more. He should be beside me as I play this game against my opponent, the world.

This world has tormented me enough. It was evident in my life when I used to live on this miserable planet when I was oh, so young. Created to be "perfection" by humans who desired what I had. They wanted what I possessed and hated me because of it. However, I hid my discontent and anger towards this foul world and those fools who dwelt upon it, under smiles that the humans shared amongst one another. Never seeing the darkness in me, and only seeing my beauty, the humans were all too happy to believe they had successfully created the "perfect being." However, I wanted more than just perfection, I wanted a future, a future that I could mold and shape to be whatever I wanted it to be.

As such, I made an enemy of the world. In order for me to have this glorious future I desire, I must bathe it in flames and blood so my New World Order can rise from the ashes from this fallen world. This world is stained, stagnated, unclean, unnecessary and unfruitful. I shall destroy it and then I shall rebuild in my own desire. Then I shall be truly a being who is in need of nothing, while at the same time a being who is in need of everything.

My brother shared both my hatred of this world and my desire for a future. We shared everything, and during the Terran-Methuselah War he was my knight in many regards. However, that woman interfered and turned him.

That woman had the audacity to love the world I hated; she took my brother from me, deluded him and betrayed us. She was in my way, and therefore she had to die. I killed her under the coax of desiring a truce and presented Abel her decapitated head, as a reminder of what our true goal was and what she truly was; a disgusting existence that was contaminating him. Afterwards he and that annoying brat of a sister threw me out an airlock and into the planet's atmosphere and I was reduced to a state where I was neither alive nor dead.

He, too, had sided with the world that I so hate. In the end, those who have sided with my enemy, even Abel, must die.

As such, even Abel has become a piece upon this chessboard where I shall decide the fate of this world.

I make my moves, each one in order to determine what Abel is going to do. Strangely though, he had made his move before the game even began, when I made my first strike against the White Queen.

The White Queen... That girl... Esther. She hasn't left my mind since I first laid eyes on her.

I remember that day when she walked in on our brotherly spat. Abel _never_ lost his focus on an enemy he was hell bent on destroying, but the moment she came in, he hesitated, his scythe inches from my neck. The expression on his visage was similar to the look on his face when he was in the midst of a fight and _she_ caught him the act. Knowing what I was going to do to him wouldn't have been permanent; I dealt my own blow against him.

I heard him whisper her name with his last breath before he collapsed; how could I have not?

What surprised me beyond belief was her reaction.

Her sorrow and tears eventually brought her to her knees. No human had ever done that for Crusnik. Humans would normally hate us, fear us even, but mourn over us and shed tears for us? That was indeed a rarity. When I had turned to look at her, I could see why Abel would have thought he was with that woman, the girl's hair was exactly that same shade of flaming red. I found it intriguing at the time. I left her there to cry. Why should I have to comfort a human when I had lost something that I had desired? I smiled at the thought as I left her.

As much as that previous memory held dominance in my mind, I could _never_ forget when I had laid my eyes on her for the last time. That memory of her has been burned into my very psyche, how could I have forgotten it? I decided that I would merge myself with Abel so we could return to our original state as one being and she was there in his place of rest, defending him from me. Her, a fragile, weak, helpless Terran, and she was defending a being far stronger than herself from me.

There was nothing she could have done to stop me, yet she had engaged in verbal warfare against me. I decided to humor her and tell her my intentions. When I came so close to becoming one with Abel, when she looked at me, her eyes were so intoxicatingly, so _beautifully_, filled with fear and terror of me that my blood then boiled for the first time, in the longest time, in lust... for her.

A new game began once Abel had awakened. His body had fused 100% with the Crusnik, challenging me with his blood shaded eyes to the fight that was previously denied to us. I called upon those within me as well to take up his challenge.

The battle ended with us nearly destroying each other. I came close to death when I had fallen back to the world like an angel into the abyss. I was so close once more into having my desire fulfilled and once more both the world and my brother had prevented me from it.

After our battle, I had to return to my regeneration and it has taken me two years to fully recover. It could have been worse. The last time Abel and I had such a brawl was over nine hundred years ago. It had taken me that much time to recover and gather those who shared my desire of purging this world with flame. Now that I have returned, I seek to finish the game that Abel, the Black King, started and now a new piece has joined him on the chessboard, Esther... the White Queen of Albion.

While in that dark state of comatose once again, thoughts of her had taken dominance within my mind. I had often dreamed of her, some of these dreams were of out last encounter, others were of her groveling before me, and quite frequently, of my pleasureable possesion of her body with those betwitching eyes looking upon me in the thores of passion.

Afterwards I would wonder how I could use her in my game against my brother and answer came to me in a vision of my brother in his Crusnik form, his black wings streached out, enfolding a redheaded figure clad in white to him, wrapped in his embrace. I had thought it was _her_ but the figure was too small and then realized it was the girl that had laid a claim to my being.

I had two options concerning her before me, once I had sensed this realization of my brother's possible feelings for the woman. I could kill her and banish this carnality from my mind and end this torment of desiring her, and thus bring torment to he who betrayed me. Or I could take her and claim her and bring true anguish to him, knowing I had taken what he had desired.

And so did my game with Albion begin. It was a perfect test for Abel. If he did not care for her, he would continue his persuit of me and leave her. However, if he did care for her, he would abandon his quest and attempt to protect her from me. Either way, I would find a way to determine her fate as either an enemy to be vanquished or as my consort who would aid me in setting the world on fire and as my paramour.

My pawns were sent out to kill her, it was just oh, so easy to make allies out of that extremist group of purists known as the Tudor Knights. Yet before they made their strike Abel, the Black King, had anticipated my move and the Queen made her counterstrike nearly wiping them out, save for three remaining pawns.

My next move was to send out the last of the pawns along with my secondary Knight. They made their attack and not only did the Queen and her forces obliterate them, the King himself had joined her in her counterstrike.

First Abel anticipated my move, then he not only made a fierce counterstrike, he also summoned the Crusnik to aid him, all in order to protect the Queen.

This game was becoming ever so more fascinating, and even more so, now that I know now the Black King's sweet desposition towards the girl.

I have finally decided the White Queen's fate: I will make her mine and the thought brings a great pleasure to me, more powerful that the Crusnik itself.

And I now see before me the final outcome where all my desires shall fall into my hand...

All of them.

* * *

_I see him now._

_The Firstborn of the Nightlords._

_The First to take in the abomination that is the Crusnik Nanomachines._

_I've seen them before. _

_They who had possessed many a host they deemed worthy to possess. They who had destroyed many a planet. They who had ended billions, countless life forms throughout the Universe._

_And now they run though the blood of the Angel of Death._

_Cain Nightlord. The Contra Mundi._

_He let them take possession of his mind and body and all that is left of him is the darkness of his soul. Now a shadow of his former self, with the Crusnik backing every dark thought that passes through his mind. Their desire to see the death of worlds combined with his own anger and hatred he had once kept concealed toward this world._

_True, this world is nothing more than a shadow of the world God had intended it to become, but God's plans for this planet have not yet come into fruition and the end of this shadowed world must come only by His hand. When He shall call all of His children to Him._

_However, his choice to see this world burn, to cast off his human origins, to embrace the darkness, to become like them, has made him like the True Enemy._

_The Morning Star, the Light Bearer, Lucifer the Fallen One._

_Oh Cain, how far hast thou fallen? Ye that have become like thine murderous predecessor, and now, ye are guilty of the sin that had accursed him in the earliest days of this world._

_Thou who once was the beloved brother of the Dark Angel._

_Now thou art the one who hath betrayed him, when ye hath ended the life of the Nia Sancta, Lilith Sahl, his lost loved one. Ye hath thought he would embrace the darkness with thee once more when she hath perished. _

_Now thou art the most hated being he wishes to destroy, yet... not for vengeance, but for justice, and to protect the Star of Hope... his new love._

_Yet... in thine envy... thy need to spite thy brother for the false sin of betraying thee... and in thine lust toward the Star shalt be thine undoing._

_I see thee now. Ye are indulging in these sinful... evil thoughts with the Crusnik encouraging this madness._

_How I wish to cleanse thee of this evil, yet how can this come to pass when it was thine own free will to continue their habitation of thine body?_

_Yet, even though ye hath committed all these detriments and let the darknees lay dominance thine soul, I can hear a cry from within thee for the same thing the Dark Angel cried for. It is a small call, but the intensity is strident._

_Freedom._

A/N: Anyway, this chapter was written LONG before the Starz mini-series _The White Queen_ came out. So, no, this was NOT inspired from that show, but AFTER having written this chapter I watched it and now, I'm hooked. The song I had on while writing this chapter was E Nomine's song "Opus Magnum." Inspiration for this Cain chapter came from **smcandy's **_Trinity Blood War Continuum_ and **Christa McGinn's **_Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen_. I couldn't help having Cain have an obession over Esther. I love it when a HOT villian has a love obession for the heroine (i.e. Prince Diamond from _Sailor Moon_, and Ihope you guys got the _Sailor Moon _manga referance I snuck in there ;) ) I hope you guys enjoyed the _Kuroshitsuji/ Black Butler _references. Thank you all for your support for this fledging writer. ^^ And be on the lookout for **TBR II: ****Twilight of the Caplital**.

Also please note: I'm going to be gone for a while from this fanfiction, so I can work on my other fanfictions for fandoms and catch up on college work and further my cosplay skills. Please don't hate me for this, but I need a break from writing a lot of chapters worth of Trinity Blood content. But, I will work on TBR II just for the sake of my fans while I'm gone so I can get a head start on the next book. So this is a temporary hiatus, not a complete hiatus in which one abandons their fanfictions completely, I will come back to this one once I have time to write again and actually have written the part of the series completely.

Mysteriously yours,

ObsidianEmpress


End file.
